THb  HAH  WTM  TH,    a\r  r>  (  i   .  AI< 


BY 

CARL   REUTTI    MASON 

AUTHOR  OF  DEATH'S  CONFESSION. 


THE 

Hbbey  press 


Copyright,  1901, 

by 
THE 

Press 


PREFACE. 


The  historical  novelist  is  indeed  fortunate  if 
in  his  searching  through  the  musty  pages  of 
history  he  can  find  a  character  which  conforms 
in  every  detail  to  the  one  his  eye  of  imagination 
conceives.  But  as  a  general  thing  this  is  not 
the  case  and  so  one  to  fill  this  requisite  must 
be  furnished  from  the  workings  of  his  own 
mind;  while  the  fundamental  facts  remain  the 
same  true  and  unchanged. 

An  historical  novel  is  not  the  place  to  study 
details;  but  to  fasten  dates  and  events  firmly 
in  the  mind,  it  is  by  far  better  than  the  dry 
pages  of  history.  So  as  a  word  of  warning  to 
my  readers,  I  desire  to  say  that  no  faith  should 
be  placed  in  the  characters  of  my  main  heroes, 
as  they  are  merely  brought  into  action  to  fill  a 
space,  from  the  novelist's  point  of  view. 

But  the  facts  are  the  same.     Grouchy  did 

3 


2137582 


4  The  Clash  of  Steel 

not  appear  and  no  definite  reasons  have  ever 
been  given  for  his  non-appearance  at  the 
battle  of  Waterloo,  which  undoubtedly  caused 
Napoleon's  defeat.  For  the  historical  data  of 
this  work  I  am  especially  indebted  to  Guizot's 
History  of  France,  which  is  very  much  opposed 
to  Napoleon,  and  Abbott's  Life  of  Napoleon, 
which  places  Napoleon's  actions  in  a  very 
favorable  light,  and  Muhlbach's  Historical 
Novels,  which  give  the  sentimental  part  of  the 
life  of  the  great  Emperor. 

GAEL  H.  MASON. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  FATAL  MISTAKE 7 

BOOK  II. 

I.  THE  MAN  IN  THE  RED  CLOAK 19 

II.  ACCEPTED 31 

III.  IN  WHICH  A  MYSTERIOUS  STRANGER  APPEARS 

IN  PARIS 44 

IV.  MADAME'S  VISIT 55 

V.  MADAME  MAKES  AN  AGREEMENT 67 

VI.  THE  CARDINAL'S  CAMEO 78 

VII.  MADAME  SPECULATES 93 

VIII.  LOVE  OR  DUTY 102 

IX.  THE  NICKED  RAPIER 109 

X.  AN  ACT  OF  PITY 117 

BOOK  III. 

I.  THE  BURNING  OF  Moscow 125 

II.  EXILE 130 

III.  CAUGHT  IN  A  NET 136 

5 


6  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

IV.  CHATEAU  DE  NUIT 141 

V.  THE  BED  SILK  LADDER 146 

VI.  THE  WRONG  MAN 157 

VII.  THEN,  SIRE,  I  DISOBEY 164 

VIII.  A  WARNING  IN  TIME 170 

IX.  VICTORY  AND  DEATH 178 

X.  A  MYSTERY  REVEALED 187 

XI.  IN  MORTE  QUIETUS  EST 195 


THE  CLASH  OF  STEEL 


BOOK   I. 

CHAPTER  I. 

A  FATAL  MISTAKE. 

Like  the  evening  star,  slowly  mounting  its 
zenith  at  the  evening  twilight,  rose  Napoleon's 
fortune,  for  awhile  it  set,  sparkled  and  flashed, 
then  slowly  it  began  to  pale  behind  the  ominous 
clouds  which  long  had  been  gathering  on  the 
horizon.  The  star  of  his  greatness  began  its 
being  when  he  married  the  widow  of  M.  Beau- 
harnais  and  turned  back  the  horoscope  of  time 
so  as  to  escape  the  laughter  of  his  friends,  I 
will  not  say  the  whole  world,  for  at  that  time 
what  a  little  noise  the  name  of  Napoleon  Bona- 

7 


8  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

parte,  Corsican,  General,  made,  but  rather 
of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  himself.  Stronger  it 
became  until  the  30th  day  of  November,  1809, 
when  it  set,  sparkled  awhile,  then  began  fading 
off  into  a  dying  ember. 

Fate  long  before  had  whispered  into  the 
sensitive  ear  of  Josephine  that  when  Napoleon 
should  place  the  crown  upon  her  head  and 
whisper  into  her  ear,  "now  Josephine  you  are 
Empress  and  I  am  Emperor  of  all  France,"  that 
then  had  come  the  time  for  her  to  depart,  for 
she  felt  that  there  could  be  no  Emperor  without 
an  heir  that  should  be  a  direct  descendant  of  his 
blood.  This  she  continually  felt  and  often  told 
the  Emperor,  who  would  try  to  allay  her  fears 
with  some  loving  speech.  But  she  knew  and 
felt  that  he  would  sacrifice  her  at  the  altar  of 
his  ambition. 

Tip  to  this  time  there  was  no  one  whom  the 
crown  would  fall  back  upon  in  case  of 
Napoleon's  death,  unless  it  was  Eugene, 
Napoleon's  adopted  son  and  Josephine's  rightful 
child.  But  that  would  not  suffice  for  the 
French  people,  Napoleon  thought.  Thus  the 
poor  woman  saw  that  her  fate  was  inevitable,  to 
be  banished,  and  she  resigned  herself  to  the 


A  Fatal  Mistake.  9 

coming  blow.  There  was  but  one  way  before 
she  surrendered  entirely  but  if  that  failed  all 
would  be  lost.  This  last  chance  was  to  marry 
Hortense,  Josephine's  daughter  and  Napoleon's 
step  daughter  to  Napoleon's  brother  Louis. 
After  much  trouble,  anguish  and  planning  this 
was  at  last  accomplished  and  her  efforts  were 
crowned  by  Hortense  giving  birth  to  a  son. 

The  old  happiness  returned,  only  to  be 
changed  into  deeper  despair,  for  the  child  died 
soon  after.  All  to  Josephine  seemed  lost  and  it 
was  true,  there  was  no  doubt.  She  had  recourse 
to  no  other  plans  and  there  was  no  longer  a 
hope,  there  must  be  an  heir  to  the  throne  which 
Napoleon  had  erected.  Already  the  Emperor 
had  consulted  his  councilors  as  to  the  move  he 
was  contemplating  of  divorcing  Josephine. 

Negotiations  were  begun  with  several  royal 
families  and  an  assembly  was  called  to  find  a 
suitable  Empress  for  the  throne  of  France, 
which  soon  would  be  vacant.  The  assembly 
proposed  several  names  but  that  of  Maria  Louisa 
of  Austria  was  met  with  the  most  favor  by  the 
Emperor,  thereby  giving  rise  to  much  dis- 
pleasure at  several  other  courts.  Napoleon 
combined  diplomacy  with  necessity,  as  he  would 


io  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

have  called  it.  He  felt  that  it  was  necessary 
to  rid  himself  of  Josephine  and  in  choosing 
another  wife,  he  preferred  to  choose  one  who 
would  bring  aid  to  his  cause. 

At  first  the  alliance  with  some  Russian 
Princess  seemed  favorable  and  it  was  agreeable 
to  Alexander  but  Napoleon  preferred  Austria, 
thinking  thereby  to  gain  a  stronger  power  in 
his  favor  but  he  made  one  of  the  mistakes  which 
cost  him  so  dearly.  Alexander's  wrath  was 
provoked  and  instead  of  gaining  Austria's  favor, 
it  gained  both  Russia's  and  Austria's  hatred. 
Now  came  the  trying  time.  Napoleon  called 
Hortense  and  requested  of  her  that  she  inform 
her  mother  of  the  step  he  had  been  contemplat- 
ing but  she  refused,  saying  "you  may  break 
her  heart  sire,  but  I  shall  not."  Next  he  tried 
to  have  Eugene  break  the  news  to  his  mother 
but  again  he  was  met  with  a  stern  refusal. 


It  was  on  the  evening  of  November  30th, 
1809.  All  day  long  the  cold  wind  had  driven 
the  withered  leaves  about  the  streets  in  the  same 
manner  as  Fate  drives  our  hopes.  First  flutter- 
ing awhile  on  the  almost  barren  branches,  then 


A  Fatal  Mistake.  1 1 

they  are  torn  from  the  stem  and  at  last  a 
whirlwind  of  disappointment  hurls  them  into 
oblivion. 

The  rain  had  come  and  died  at  times  from 
the  low  clouds  which  hung  over  the  earth. 
Occasionally  a  flurry  of  snow  and  perhaps  a 
patter  of  hail,  then  gloom  again,  gloom  every 
where,  thick  and  impregnable  as  that  settled  on 
the  brow  of  the  eternally  mute  sphinx  as  she 
looks  over  the  burning  barren  sands,  guarding 
with  her  shade  the  flights  of  caravans  of  cen- 
turies. A  day  which,  when  dying  makes  one 
feel  as  though  the  sun  would  never  again  mount 
his  throne  "in  majestic  state,"  as  though  the 
angels  had  forgotten  "with  fairy  hands  to  shift 
the  scenery  of  the  heavens." 

The  occasional  patter  of  horses  hoofs,  the 
rumble  of  a  carriage,  then  silence  as  deep  as 
that  which  hangs  about  the  tomb  or  the  chamber 
of  the  dead.  A  night  fit  for  dreams  of  morality 
and  deeds  of  violence.  A  night  for  sadness  and 
languid  melancholy,  for  charity  and  for  murder, 
but  then  what  is  the  difference  between  charity 
and  murder,  be  it  self  murder  or  otherwise? 
They  are  often  identical,  often  the  same  to 
some  poor  wretch  laboring  in  poverty  and  dis- 


12  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

tress  or  wallowing  in  wealth  and  dishonor.  Yet 
he  does  not  recognize  the  fact  when  the  murder- 
ous blow  descends  that  charity  has  been  done. 
He  does  not  feel  that  from  a  life  of  distress  and 
pain  he  has  been  subpoenaed  into  a  life  of 
happiness  or  perhaps  a  life  of  silent,  eternal 
sleep,  anything  better  and  nothing  worse  than 
the  life  he  has  led. 

Thus  oftentimes  the  pauper  is  charitable  in 
his  poverty;  when  he  fells  his  victim  and  the 
victim  of  despair  with  the  same  blow,  who 
hesitates  to  do  for  himself  that  which  the  pauper 
has  done  for  him.  Who  hesitates  and  fears. 
What?  He  knows  not  and  still  he  feels  that 
nothing  can  be  worse  than  the  life  he  has  led 
and  yet  he  hesitates.  Draws  the  poniard  from 
its  sheath,  feels  its  temper,  sees  it  glitter  in  the 
light,  a  moment  of  thought,  the  dagger  slips 
unstained  into  its  sheath  again. 

While  the  glitter  of  a  stiletto,  a  sharp  cry 
and  all  is  over  or  still  better  a  drop  upon  the 
lips,  a  dream  of  blissful  happiness,  perhaps  the 
only  he  has  known,  the  arms  of  his  fairy  mis- 
tress about  him,  the  'fever  of  her  burning  lips, 
the  perfume  of  her  hair  as  it  hides  his  face,  her 
hot  breath  upon  the  cheek — then  the  stiffening 


A  Fatal  Mistake.  13 

of  a  muscle,  the  glassy  stare  of  an  eye,  the  rattle 
in  the  throat  and  then  we  know  not  but  that  he 
has  happiness. 

The  world  will  say  he  was  a  coward,  but  he 
is  not.  Let  them  who  are  loudest  in  their 
accusations  of  cowardice  contemplate  the  very 
act  and  ascertain  who  is  the  coward.  Let  them 
prick  their  living  flesh  with  the  needle  point 
of  a  poniard  and  feel  the  self  murderer's 
thoughts  and  fears;  let  them  feel  the  touch  of 
the  clear  cold  liquid  of  death  and  know  that 
soon  all  will  be  over  and  let  them  feel  the  sting 
of  their  own  taunt;  let  them  then  determine 
who  is  the  coward  and  who  is  the  bravado. 

In  the  salon  of  the  Tuileries,  sat  the  Emperor 
alone,  his  head  reclining  on  his  hand,  his  elbow 
on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  Some  would  picture 
him  with  tears  coursing  down  his  cheeks  and 
a  broken  heart  at  the  crushing  duty  he  was 
about  to  perform  for  the  welfare  of  France,  as 
he  thought,  but  I  will  not.  Undoubtedly  it 
caused  him  pain  to  contemplate  the  part  he  was 
about  to  play.  Whom  would  it  not  cause  pain? 
Into  whose  heart  would  it  not  strike  remorse, 
but  as  for  Napoleon  being  heart  broken  I  doubt 
it.  Let  the  soldier  follow  the  war,  the  trades- 


14  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

man  his  trade,  the  beggar  his  beggary  and  the 
ambitious  his  ambition.  Napoleon  had  decided 
to  follow  his  ambition  and  the  time  had  come 
for  him  to  act.  He  arose  from  the  chair  and 
as  he  paced  the  length  of  the  room  he  murmured 
to  himself  awhile  in  an  inaudible  tone.  ~No 
doubt  morality  was  debating  with  evil,  remorse 
with  what  he  felt  a  duty.  At  last  he  straight- 
ened up  as  the  servant  called  him  for  the  even- 
ing meal  and  said  in  a  voice  stern  and  unfalter- 
ing, showing  that  his  decision  had  been  made 
"it  is  all  over;  tonight  it  must  be  consummated" 
and  with  a  firm  step,  in  which  seemed  to  still  lurk 
a  bit  of  hesitancy,  he  left  the  room.  No  doubt 
remorse  was  still  working  in  his  mind. 

He  entered  the  salle  a  manger  to  partake 
of  the  evening  meal  and  also  to  break  the  ties 
that  bound  him  to  Josephine.  Just  as  he  en- 
tered the  room,  the  door  opposite  opened  and 
Josephine  came  in  followed  by  Hortense. 
Anguish  was  painfully  depicted  upon  her  face 
and  with  morose  step  she  approached  the  table 
and  seated  herself  at  her  accustomed  place, 
which  soon  she  would  leave  forever.  Every- 
thing at  this  moment  of  her  departure  seemed 
dearer  to  her  than  ever  before.  Undoubtedlv 


A  Fatal  Mistake.  15 

Hortense  had  in  some  way  given  her  an  under- 
standing of  what  was  to  happen  as  Josephine 
suppressed  her  tears  with  pain. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken.  Josephine  read  her 
fate  in  the  Emperor's  actions  for  his  eyes  would 
not  meet  hers  and  her  bosom  heaved  with  sup- 
pressed anguish.  It  was  as  if  leading  a  victim 
to  be  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  ambition.  The 
wind  moaned  about  the  building  and  dashed 
gusts  of  rain  against  the  window  with  a  ghostly 
patter,  as  if  weeping  for  the  Empress  in  her 
distress. 

Tears  would  well  up  in  her  eyes,  but  with 
an  effort  she  would  restrain  them.  The  scenes 
of  past  happy  days  arose  before  her  as  in  a 
dream.  She  saw  again  the  time  when  Eugene 
received  his  father's  sword  from  Napoleon's 
hand.  She  saw  the  Emperor  return  triumphant 
with  victory.  She  saw  again  the  time  when 
he  placed  the  crown  upon  her  head;  but  then 
her  happiness  was  ended.  The  silence  was 
oppressive.  A  lackey  dropped  a  cup  and  awoke 
'Josephine  from  her  dream.  No  one  spoke  a 
word  and  a  far  off  clock  struck  the  hour  in  a 
slow  drawing  tone  like  a  knell.  The  meal  was 
finished.  The  Emperor  arose  and  dismissed 


1 6  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

those  about  him  and  as  Josephine  started  to 
leave,  he  said  to  her  in  a  choked  voice: 

"Pray  remain  Josephine,  I  would  speak  with 
you." 

Hortense  asked  permission  to  remain,  hut 
Napoleon  denied  it  and  she  withdrew  with  a 
parting  glance  at  her  mother.  All  had  left. 
The  Empress  stood  at  the  closed  door  with 
bowed  head  for  a  moment,  then  turned  and  cast 
her  eyes  now  filling  with  tears  towards  the 
Emperor. 

"My  Josephine,  my  good  Josephine,  my  life 
has  been  but  one  dream  of  happiness  in  your 
presence.  Your  words  have  been  my  consola- 
tion, your  kisses  have  changed  moments  of  hell 
into  eternities  of  heaven.  All  I  owe  to  you. 
All  my  greatness  I  attribute  to  you  and  it 
pierces  my  heart  and  soul  with  pain  to  tell 
you—" 

"Sire,"  she  said  with  tears  and  sobs  choking 
her  voice,  "you  need  go  no  further.  I  under- 
stand it  all;  I  understand  it  all.  Those  happy 
days  are  past  and  gone  never  to  return.  Was' 
I  not  right  Sire,  when  I  asked  you  not  to 
become  Emperor?" 

He   approached  and  held  her  in  his  arms. 


A  Fatal  Mistake  17 

The  tears  were  pouring  from  her  eyes  like  the 
stream  of  an  unchecked  fountain. 

"Ah  Sire,  it  breaks  my  heart  to  think  that  I 
must  leave  you,  that  never  again  shall  I  feel 
your  arms  about  me  or  your  kisses  on  my  lips, 
that  you  shall  never  again  press  me  to  your 
heart,  no  more  will  Josephine  be  your  wife.  ~No 
more,  no  more,"  and  she  fainted  sobbing 
violently  in  his  arms.  He  gently  laid  her  on 
the  couch  and  called  a  physician  and  knelt  by 
her  side  until  she  was  revived  and  then  he  left. 

Then  he  retired  to  his  own  room  and  paced 
the  floor  until  after  midnight,  when  he  threw 
himself  upon  the  bed  and  fell  into  a.  troubled 
sleep.  Suddenly  he  was  awakened  by  the 
creaking  of  a  door.  He  looked  in  wonderment 
as  the  servants  never  entered  the  room  after  he 
had  retired,  when  ISTapoleon  gave  such  orders 
and  he  had  done  so  that  night,  as  he  wished 
to  be  alone  with  his  own  thoughts.  Slowly  the 
door  opened  and  a  figure  in  white,  her  hair  dis- 
heveled, entered.  It  was  Josephine.  The 
scene  was  embarrassing.  Had  Josephine  the 
divorced  wife  the  right  to  enter  the  chamber  of 
a  man  who  was  no  longer  her  husband?  The 
stillness  was  only  broken  by  the  sobbing  which 


1 8  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

escaped  her.  Napoleon  was  the  first  to  speak: 
"Josephine?" 

"My  husband,  my  husband/'  she  cried,  "you 
are  still  my  husband.  Tonight,  but  tomorrow 
no  more,"  and  sobbing  and  weeping  almost 
hysterical  she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"Do  not  drive  me  away  let  me  be  with  you 
if  only  your  servant,  your  slave,  anything,  only 
let  me  be  near  you." 

But  the  fate  of  Josephine  had  been  signed 
and  sealed.  That  was  her  last  night  as  the 
wife  of  Napoleon  and  as  the  first  rays  of  the 
morning  light  sped  over  France,  the  past 
Empress  stole  from  her  husband's  bed-chamber 
as  a  mistress  from  that  of  her  lover  and  France 
was  without  an  Empress. 


BOOK   II. 

CHAPTEK  I. 

THE  MAN  IN  THE  RED  CLOAK. 

It  was  in  a  drinking  inn  on  the  outskirts  of 
Paris,  one  cold  dreary  night  where  one  could 
find  idlers   loitering,    quarreling   and   arguing. 
There  were  merchantmen,  groomsmen,  common 
soldiers     and    officers    who    frequented    these . 
places  almost  constantly.     They  were  divided; 
off  into  separate  groups,   some  arguing  about 
their   wares    others    drinking,    some   gambling,! 
either    with    the    dice    or    the    cards    but    all 
swearing. 

The  French  people  forget  easily.  It  was  now 
the  last  of  January  and  no  one  spoke  of  Jose- 
phine, she  was  not  even  thought  of,  the  con- 
jecture now  was,  "who  would  be  the  next 
Empress?"  The  secret  had  not  yet  been 
officially  given  out  but  it  was  almost  certain  that 

19 


1O  The  Clash  cf  Steel. 

Napoleon's  suit  had  been  accepted  by  Maria 
Louisa  of  Austria. 

It  was  "bitter  stinging  cold  outside  and  u 
heavy  snow  was  falling  and  it  seemed  from  the 
amount  of  noise  they  made,  that  the  revelers 
were  trying  to  drown  out  the  ghostly  whistle 
of  the  wind  as  it  would  rush  about  the  building. 
Glasses  clinked  as  two  or  three  cavalry-men 
would  bump  them  together,  wishing  each  other 
a  safe  campaign.  The  dice  rattled  as  they  rolled 
over  the  table,  perhaps  settling  the  fate  of  some 
fair  demoiselle  and  the  cards  were  shuffled,  with 
hands  that  seemed  to  feel  that  they  had  dealt 
the  wrong  card  to  their  opponent  and  the  correct 
one  to  their  master. 

The  laughter  and  noise  grew  louder  and 
louder;  but  suddenly  a  silence,  as  deep  as  that 
which  hangs  about  the  tomb  at  "midnight's 
holiest  hour,"  fell  upon  all  the  revelers.  A 
man,  had  only  opened  and  closed  the  door  and 
stood  shaking  the  snow  from  a  great  red  cloak 
which  almost  entirely  enveloped  his  fine  form. 

I  say  that  a  man,  had  only  opened  and  closed 
the  door,  for  why  should  only  a  man  cause  such 
a  silence  to  fall  on  these  half  drunken  idlers, 
who  feared  no  one  on  this  side  of  the  grave  or 


The  Man  in  the  Red  Cloak.  21 

the  other  but  God  and  the  devil  himself.  This 
thought  presented  itself  to  every  mind  but  could 
not  be  explained.  There  seemed  to  be  such 
graceful  and  serpentine  movements  about  this 
man,  that  he  seemed  rather  to  glide  than  to 
walk. 

He  was  dressed  in  the  garb  of  a  cavalier, 
entirely  in  keeping  with  the  style  of  France, 
with  the  exception  of  this  long  red  cloak,  on 
account  of  which  he  was  immediately  styled  by 
the  crowd  as  the  "man  in  the  red  cloak." 

He  strode  across  the  room  and  the  spurs  on  his 
high  military  boots  seemed  to  vie  in  clearness  of 
sound  with  that  made  by  the  long  slender  sword, 
which  dangled  loosely  at  his  side.  His  face  was 
shaded  by  a  pair  of  mustaches  and  a  beard, 
which  ran  to  a  point  almost  as  sharp  as  that 
of  his  weapon.  His  hair  and  beard  were  black 
and  his  eyes  were  almost  of  the  same  shade, 
piercing  as  steel,  glittering  with  a  malicious, 
half  sneaking  half  bold  light,  and  restless  as 
the  needle  of  a  compass,  they  would  wander 
from  object  to  object.  A  half  sneering  smile 
almost  constantly  played  about  his  mouth  and 
truly  I  do  not  doubt,  that  could  the  thoughts 
of  this  crowd  have  been  compared,  this  one 


22  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

would  have  been  present  in  every  mind;  "how 
much  like  Goethe's  creation  of  Mephisto." 

The  man  seated  himself  quietly  at  a  vacant 
table  and  ordered  a  hot  punch.  The  revelers 
seemed  to  lose  the  spirit  which  they  formerly 
had,  for  some  reason  or  other;  they  could  not 
explain.  This  calm,  deliberate  character  cast 
a  chill  over  their  feelings  and  dampened  their 
ardor.  He  seemed  to  be  a  gloomy  forebodance 
of  evil  and  misfortune.  The  drink  was  brought 
and  placed  before  the  man,  who  gave  the  land- 
lord a  coin  which  several  times  covered  the  price 
of  the  drink  and  when  handed  the  change, 
merely  made  a  motion  with  his  hand  as  if  to 
say  "I  require  nothing  more,"  began  slowly 
to  sip  the  beverage  and  the  landlord,  not  having 
to  be  asked  twice  to  keep  the  change,  pocketed 
it  and  resumed  his  station. 

This  action  seemed  to  give  new  life  to  the 
revelers  and  again  the  glasses  sounded,  but 
louder  than  before,  again  the  dice  clattered 
as  they  rolled  on  the  table  and  the  cards  were 
dealt  with  a  still  more  certain  hand  and  the 
noise  grew  louder  than  ever.  The  man  sat  and 
sipped  his  drink  and  when  it  was  finished  he 
calmly  drew  a  gold  case  from  his  pocket  and 


The  Man  in  the  Red  Cloak.  23 

slowly  and  deliberately  rolled  a  cigarette,  lit  it 
and  blew  the  smoke  into  pale  blue  rings  about 
his  head  while  he  mused. 

"I  am  now  on  the  right  road  to  Paris  and 
must  begin  my  work  by  praising  their  idol  and 
shouting  in  a  loud  voice,  Sdve  L'  Empereur.'  ' 

During  this  time,  the  crowd  did  not  lose  the 
opportunity  of  remarking,  that  evidently  the 
new-comer  must  not  be  very  well  acquainted  in 
that  part  of  Paris  and  there  were  few — and  they 
were  too  full  for  utterance — who  did  not  make 
some  jeering  remark  about  the  stranger.  These 
sallies  of  insults  were  principally  led  by  a  half 
drunken  bully,  who  would,  between  his  throws 
of  dice,  heap  some  new  insult  on  the  stranger. 

"I  wonder  if  he  plays  and  fights  as  well  as  he 
looks?"  he  asked  in  an  undertone,  but  loud 
enough  for  the  stranger  to  hear.  The  crowd 
laughed  and  cast  sly  glances  in  the  direction  of 
the  object  of  their  raillery. 

The  man  calmly  blew  rings  of  cigarette 
smoke  in  the  air  and  acted  as  though  he  heard 
nothing. 

"Certainly  he  must  be  a  shade  returned  from 
the  time  of  the  great  Richelieu,  to  wear  a  cloak 
of  such  a  color;"  said  he  as  he  raked  in  the 


24  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

last  sou  of  his  fourth  victim  and  clamored 
loudly  for  some  one  else  to  match  his  luck 
with  him,  but  all  feared  to  venture. 

The  stranger  suddenly  arose  and  strode  across 
the  room  to  where  the  bully  was  standing,  call- 
ing for  some  one  to  compete  with  him,  hoping 
that  the  stranger  would  hear  and  try  his  luck. 
The  stranger  picked  up  the  dice  and  threw. 

"By  what  name  may  we  style  you,  my  dear 
sir?"  asked  the  bully  with  mock  politeness,  of 
which  the  stranger  seemed  to  take  no  notice 
whatever. 

"Call  me  Mario." 

"My  name  is  Pierre,  Corporal  Moran  of 
Napoleon's  Guard  and  styled  its  best  swords- 
man, may  it  please  you."  Pierre  picked  up  the 
dice  laughing  at  the  throw  which  Mario  had 
made  and  threw  them  upon  the  table  and  lost. 

"Come,  double  the  amount,"  cried  he. 

"Done"  said  Mario  and  the  crowd  gathered 
nearer  to  watch  the  game,  as  already  the  stakes 
were  higher  than  usual.  They  threw  again  and 
Mario  won  once  more.  Once  after  that  he  won 
and  the  crowd  began  to  make  remarks  about 
Pierre's  luck.  But  the  tide  turned  and  Pierre 
soon  had  all  of  Mario's  money  and  was  turning 


The  Man  in  the  Red  Cloak.  25 

away  rejoicing  when  Mario  called  to  him  "come 
I  still  have  this  ring  left,  it  is  certainly  worth 
600  francs  we  will  play  on,  not  with  the  dice 
but  with  the  cards." 

Pierre  flushed  with  victory  and  longingly  eye- 
ing the  diamond,  which  sparkled  and  glittered 
on  Mario's  finger,  consented  to  play.  Luck 
favored  Pierre  and  Mario  was  down  to  his  last 
part  of  the  diamond. 

"Your  remaining  amount  against  twice 
mine,"  said  Pierre  anxious  to  close  the  game. 

"I  am  willing,"  was  the  answer. 

Mario  took  the  cards  and  dealt.  Pierre  lost. 
A  smile  spread  over  Mario's  features.  The 
game  went  on  and  Pierre  continued  to  lose  until 
he  was  down  to  his  last  coin  when  Mario  said: 
"it  is  but  just  I  will  wager  all  I  have  won  from 
you  against  your  last  coin." 

"I  certainly  am  willing." 

It  was  Mario's  deal.  How  gracefully  he 
shuffled.  It  seemed  as  if  his  dancing  sharp 
eyes  could  read  the  face  of  every  card  through 
its  back.  It  was  played  and  Pierre  lost. 

"Here,"  said  Mario  pushing  all  that  he  had 
won  from  him;  "take  your  money  I  have  no 
need  of  it." 


26  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

Pierre's  dignity  was  offended  and  he  flushed 
red  with  anger. 

"Stranger,  Pierre  has  never  asked  mercy  of 
an  enemy." 

"This  mercy  is  given  without  its  being  asked 
and  besides,  I  am  no  enemy,  for  I  will  venture 
another  hundred  that  I  can  shout  vive  L' 
Empereur  vive  La  France  as  loud  as  the  next 
one,"  and  he  coolly  lit  another  cigarette. 

Seeing  that  their  leader  was  enraged  the 
crowd  gathered  around  the  two  and  began  to 
murmur  that  the  stranger  had  half  answered 
Pierre's  taunt.  He  had  proven  that  he  could 
play  as  well  as  he  looked,  now  perhaps  he  could 
fight  as  well. 

"You  have  wounded  my  pride  and  not  alone 
that,  I  could  forget  it,  but  strangers  should  pre- 
serve their  skill  at  cheating  to  play  upon  their 
friends  who  trust  them  and  would  not  have 
noticed  it." 

"You  say  I  have  cheated?" 

"You  turned  a  card,  it  may  have  been  acci- 
dent, but  perhaps  it  was  not;  I  think  it  was  not." 

There  was  a  shower  of  sparks.  Mario's 
cigarette  had  hit  Pierre  square  in  the  face  as  a 
challenge. 


The  Man  in  the  Red  Cloak.  27 

"Another  insult,"  he  bellowed,  "now  there 
can  be  but  one  way  to  repair  the  wrongs  you 
have  done  me." 

"At  your  service"  coolly  responded  Mario." 

"When  do  you  wish  to  cross  swords?" 

"There  is  no  time  like  the  present;"  said  the 
stranger,  his  eyes  snapping  with  their  steely 
glitter. 

And  so  they  left  to  fight,  while  the  landlord 
cleared  the  table. 

The  snow  was  still  falling  and  a  cold  stinging 
wind  rushed  through  the  barren  trees.  In  that 
part  of  Paris  there  ^was  no  trouble  to  find  a 
vacant  lot  and  there  was  no  need  of  fear  of  the 
gendarmes  interfering.  The  formality  of  choos- 
ing seconds  was  done  away  with,  the  whole 
crowd  being  witnesses  to  the  fight.  Pierre  was 
confident  of  victory  and  so  were  his  companions 
who  had  so  often  seen  him  prove  himself  a 
master  of  the  art,  for  such  a  long  list  of 
casualties  were  to  his  credit.  When  they 
reached  the  place  where  they  intended  to  hold 
the  bout,  Pierre  drew  his  sword  and  turned  to 
Mario. 

"Monsieur  if  you  are  slain  what  shall  we  do 
with  your  body?" 


28  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

The  sneer  on  Mario's  lips  widened  into  a  leer- 
ing smile  as  he  said: 

"Bury  me  here,"  and  he  pointed  with  his 
sword  to  the  spot  whereon  he  stood. 

"And  to  whom  shall  we  deliver  the  sorrowful 
news  of  your  demise?"  continued  Pierre. 

"Write  it  on  the  snow  with  the  point  of  your 
sword  in  my  blood  and  when  the  spring  sun 
erases  it,  think  then  that  often  in  the  same 
manner  are  we  blotted  from  the  hearts  of  those 
we  love,"  and  he  calmly  placed  himself  on 
guard. 

Pierre  was  a  member  of  Xapoleon's  famous 
guard  and  was  considered  its  best  swordsman. 
He  fought  well;  but  Mario  fought  better.  The 
snow  would  creak  beneath  their  feet  as  they 
would  lunge  arid  retreat.  It  soon  became  evi- 
dent that  Mario  was  only  playing  with  his 
opponent  as  a  cat  does  with  a  mouse  before  it 
strikes  its  final  blow.  The  same  half  sneer 
played  about  his  lips  and  his  graceful  move- 
ments gave  him  the  agility  of  a  serpent.  Finally 
he  asked:  "think  you  now  that  you  will  write 
Mario  in  blood  on  the  snow?"  Pierre  was 
breathing  too  hard  to  make  reply. 

Nearer    and    nearer    Mario's    thrusts    would 


The  Man  in  the  Red  Cloak.  29 

come  and  Pierre  seemed  unable  to  ward  them 
off.  Despair  was  plainly  shown  on  his  face  and 
he  was  fighting  viciously,  thrusting  at  random 
and  rushing  like  a  maddened  bull,  but  Mario 
would  gracefully  step  aside  and  Pierre's  sword 
always  found  nothing  but  vacancy.  The  crowd 
grew  anxious,  closed  around  the  combatants,  and 
many  placed  their  hands  on  the  hilts  of  their 
swords.  Now  Mario's  sword  brought  blood  on 
the  arm.  Now  it  touched  the  neck,  now  it 
struck  forward  with  force  over  Pierre's  guard 
and  buried  itself  in  his  shoulder  and,  exhausted, 
Pierre  sank  to  the  ground  bleeding  furiously. 

There  were  shouts,  curses,  cries  and  the  rasp- 
ing of  swords  as  they  slid  from  their  sheaths. 
They  all  rushed  forward  to  murder  Mario  and 
to  help  Pierre.  In  the  confusion  the  lights 
were  extinguished  and  blows  were  given,  but  all 
seemed  to  reach  nothing.  Finally  a  torch  was 
relighted  and  raised  in  the  air. 

Mario  had  disappeared.  He  could  not  be 
found.  The  surprise  forced  the  crowd  into 
silence  and  they  stood  looking  at  each  other  in 
wonderment,  for  every  one  felt  that  he  had 
struck  in  time  to  stop  him  forever. 

As  they  stood  there  in  amazement,  they  heard 


30  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  sound  of  a  horse  as  it  slowly  cantered  by, 
they  saw  the  flutter  of  a  red  cloak  and  a  mocking 
laugh  fell  on  their  ears. 

"You  will  hear  more  of  Mario,"  cried  the 
rider  as  he  spurred  his  horse  onward. 

It  was  a  sorry  looking  crowd  that  carried 
poor  Pierre  back  to  the  inn  and  wild  were  the 
conjectures  of  who  Mario  might  be.  Some 
thought  him  to  be  a  spy  for  the  king,  others  a 
nobleman  entering  Paris  but  all  concluded  that 
he  was  mysterious,  daring  and  brave  and  all 
recalled  their  feelings  when  he  had  entered  the 
inn. 


Accepted.  3 1 


CHAPTER  II. 

ACCEPTED. 

The  afternoon's  sun  was  dying  fast  in  the 
west  as  a  figure  strode  slowly  up  the  street, 
glancing  from  door  to  door  at  every  house,  but 
none  seemed  to  be  the  one  he  was  looking  for, 
as  he  passed  onward  after  each  stop.  Suddenly 
he  halted  and  said  half  aloud  to  himself;  "it  is 
here  that  I  am  to  meet  her  I  am  sure.  This  is 
the  street  and  the  house  answers  the  description. 
Xow  for  the  signal;"  and  he  gave  three  sharp 
trills.  He  waited  for  a  few  moments  and 
slowly  the  door  swung  open  and  a  figure  in  black 
glided  across  the  threshold.  The  door  closed 
again  very  quietly,  and  during  the  whole  opera- 
tion there  was  not  the  slightest  disturbance. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps,  which  led  to 
the  house  the  figure  stopped  and  repeated  the 
three  trills.  The  man  was  about  to  advance  and 
address  the  figure,  when  she,  for  it  was  a  woman, 


32  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

said  in  a  low  voice:  "follow  me.  Do  not  act  as 
if  you  know  me"  and  she  started  down  the  street 
with  the  man  following  closely  at  her  heels. 
After  she  had  crossed  several  streets  she  sud- 
denly came  to  a  halt  and  waited  for  the  man  to 
come  nearer. 

"It  is  indeed  you  Mario;  I  had  almost  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  you  were  not  coming. 
You  are  a  little  late." 

"Yes  I  had  a  quarrel  with  a  bully  on  my  way 
from  Chateau  de  ISTuit  as  I  entered  Paris." 

"It  is  needless  to  ask  who  won,  for  you  are 
here." 

"Yes  on  business.     What  is  the  news." 

The  duke  and  the  king  are  willing  to  give  you 
an  audience  tonight,  therefore  this  precaution. 
So  you  have  just  come  in  time  as  the  duke  who 
is  here,  in  disguise  of  course,  is  soon  to  join  his 
forces  and  the  king  is  going  from  Paris,  where 
I  do  not  know." 

"Well  let  us  proceed  at  once,"  said  the  man 
anxiously. 

"We  still  have  a  few  minutes  yet  before  the 
appointed  time  and  now  Mario  tell  me  why  you 
have  given  up  your  former  life  to  become  a  spy 
in  the  hands  of  a  dethroned  sovereign?" 


Accepted.  33 

"I  may  tell  you  that  later  on." 

"Was  it  to  be  with  me?"  she  asked  hoping 
the  answer  would  be  in  the  affirmative. 

"Perhaps"  was  the  cold  response. 

"I  do  not  wholly  believe  that  is  the  cause  but 
think  it  more  a  plan  for  revenge. 

The  man's  face  underwent  a  change,  the  half 
sneer  about  his  lips  played  off  into  hard-set  lines. 
His  eyes  flashed  and  he  spoke  but  the  few  words, 
"speak  not  of  the  past,"  but  they  were  enough 
as  they  wTere  said  in  such  a  tone  that  they  were 
all  that  was  necessary.  The  woman  saw  the 
change  and  in  a  soft  voice  began,  "you  know 
Mario,  that  I  have  always  loved  you.  Yes  I 
have  loved  you  dearer  than  anything,  even 
dearer  than  life  and  yet  you  have  not  spoken  one 
word  of  love  to  me,  not  one  action  of  yours  has 
told  me  that  you  cared  for  me  and  I  believe 
that  you  love  or  did  love  another.  Forgive  my 
hasty  speech,  it  was  my  jealousy  that  forced 
me  to  say  what  I  did." 

The  man  did  not  like  the  confession  and 
entreaty  for  undoubtedly  there  was  some  truth 
in  them. 

"Come;"  said  he,  "take  me  to  the  king." 

"Sh !"  exclaimed  the  woman,  "do  not  speak 


34  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

so  loud  about  the  king.  He  may  be  discovered 
and  all  would  be  lost.  Now  be  perfectly  quiet 
and  follow  me,"  and  she  moved  off  in  a  slow 
walk,  glancing  'from  right  to  left  to  see  that  she 
was  not  watched. 

Instead  of  returning  by  the  way  she  had  come 
she  wound  around  corners  that  seemed  to  lead 
in  a  directly  opposite  direction  from  the  house 
she  had  left.  Suddenly  she  stopped  on  a  corner 
and  waited  for  the  man  to  come. 

"Now"  said  she  when  he  had  arrived  "come 
with  me  and  be  quiet.  I  shall  do  most  of  the 
talking." 

She  then  advanced  to  the  third  house  from  the 
corner  and  gave  the  three  trills.  A  few 
seconds  later  they  were  answered  from  within 
the  house  and  the  door  slowly  opened. 

"Follow  me"  she  whispered  then  turning  to 
a  shadow,  which  stood  behind  the  door,  she  said : 

"Frangois,  let  him  enter,  by  order  of  the 
King." 

The  man  did  not  answer,  but- the  rasping  of 
steel  showed  that  he  had  understood  the  counter- 
sign and  had  obeyed  by  replacing  his  sword  in 
its  scabbard.  The  room  was  dark  and  it  was 
some  time  before  their  eyes  became  accustomed 


Accepted.  3  5 

to  the  gloom.  The  woman  stretched  out  her 
hand  and  took  Mario's  and  started  to  walk.  He 
followed  her  and  passed  through  a  long  room, 
then  suddenly  she  stopped,  for  a  strong  door 
barred  their  way.  She  rapped  three  times  and 
the  door  slowly  swung  open  and  as  they  passed 
through  she  said:  "descend  my  lor — "  -The 
man  pressed  her  hand  and  the  word  she  would 
have  spoken  died  on  her  lips.  They  then  de- 
scended a  long  flight  of  stairs,  which  made. not 
the  slightest  noise  beneath  their  feet  and  at  the 
bottom  of  which  burned  a  dim  sickly  light. 
When  they  had  descended  he  could  feel  the 
coolness  of  stones  beneath  his  feet  and  the  damp- 
ness of  walls  around  him. 

Mario  saw  nothing,  but  he  heard  his  guide  in 
a  low  voice  say:  "By  order  of  the  King"  and 
again  a  sword  slid  into  its  sheath.  Then  she 
led  him  through  a  tunnel  just  wide  enough  for 
them  to  walk  side  by  side,  which  seemed  to 
Mario  to  have  no  end.  They  wound  around 
corners  and  often  at  these  places  there  were 
intersecting  passage  ways,  leading  in  opposite 
directions,  but  the  guide  pressed  onward. 
Every  now  and  then  a  rumble  would  be  heard 
over  their  heads  like  the  muttering  of  an 


36  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

approaching  storm.  It  was  the  rolling  of 
wagons  on  the  streets  above.  After  some  time 
his  guide  again  gave  the  password  and  they 
ascended  a  short  flight  of  stairs  and  entered  into 
a  room  handsomely  furnished  but  dimly  lighted. 
"Wait  here"  she  said,  "and  I  will  see  if  the  King 
is  ready  to  admit  you." 

She  left  the  man  standing  before  the  fire,  beat- 
ing his  high  boots  with  his  long  gloves  from 
which  he  had  withdrawn  his  hands.  He  was 
tall  and  well  built  and  although  he  tried  to  dis- 
guise his  features  by  his  beard,  the  lines  still 
showed  to  a  keen  observer  that  he  did  not  pos- 
sess the  face  of  a  Frenchman.  He  spoke  French 
fluently,  but  every  now  and  then  an  accent 
would  slip  into  his  speech  which  showed,  that 
his  tongue  fain  would  wander  in  another  direc- 
tion. After  a  few  moments  the  woman  returned 
and  told  him  that  the  King  was  ready  to  receive 
him,  "but,"  said  she  in  a  word  of  warning,  "be 
firm  he  suspects  that  France  is  not  your  native 
country  and  that  you  are  not  risking  yourself  for 
that  alone.v 

The  man  made  no  reply  but  thought  that  the 
woman  made  this  statement,  merely  to  gain 
information  for  herself.  She  then  led  him  into 


Accepted.  37 

another  room.  It  was  now  almost  dark  and  by 
the  light  of  a  candelabrum  on  a  table  almost 
covered  with  papers,  he  saw  a  man  writing, 
while  another  paced  the  length  of  the  room  in 
a  dreamy  mood.  They  were  evidently  expect- 
ing the  visit  for  they  were  not  disturbed  in  the 
least  by  the  entrance  of  the  two. 

Mario  was  just  wondering  how  the  King 
would  trust  himself  in  the  heart  of.  Paris  with 
so  few  guards  about  his  person.  At  this  moment 
the  King  arose  a*nd  drew  aside  the  curtains  of 
the  window  and  in  a  stern  voice  said:  "Deliver 
these  orders  to  Franc,ois"  and  a  hand  reached 
forth  and  received  the  papers  and  the  curtains 
were  again  drawn  to. 

Napoleon  would  have  given  a  fortune  to  have 
known  that  the  King  was  in  Paris  and  he  would 
have  given  another,  greater  than  the  first,  to 
have  bribed  one  of  the  guards  to  remove  him; 
but  the  King  was  supposed  to  be  in  exile  and 
so  the  Emperor  did  not  know  that  he  was  right 
within  his  grasp,  could  he  but  remove  the  cover. 
The  King  turned  to  Mario. 

"I  understand  that  you  desire  to  place  your- 
self at  our  service." 

"You  have  been  correctly  informed  your 
Majesty." 


38  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"But  now  the  cause  of  this  risk?" 

"France,  my  King  and — ,"  was  the  answer 
but  the  last  word  was  not  spoken  but  the  word 
revenge  trembled  on  his  lips  but  was  unheard. 

"And  what?"  asked  the  King. 

"And  their  liberty." 

"Your  answers  falter." 

"My  deeds  shall  not." 

"Your  tongue  at  times  seems  to  falter  as 
though  it  was  traveling  uncertain  paths,  when 
you  pronounce  some  words." 

"I  have  been  traveling  much  of  late  your 
Majesty." 

"Well  it  is  true  a  Frenchman  is  always  a 
Frenchman  no  matter  where  he  is.  Is  it  not  so 
my  Lor — ?" 

"Mario  is  my  name,"  was  the  cool  response 
to  the  King's  speech,  which  showed  that 
suspicion  lurked  in  his  mind  as  to  the  kind  of 
man  he  dealt  with." 

"But  how  am  I  to  know  that  you  are  not  a 
spy  in  Napoleon's  hands?" 

"My  acts  shall  speak  and  prove  all  that." 

"Do  you  not  know  that  if  you  are  caught  by 
Napoleon,  that  it  would  mean  certain  death  ?  " 


Accepted.  39 

"I  should  then  die  for  a  good  cause  your 
Majesty." 

"Well  now  to  do  away  with  idle  words;  how 
do  you  intend  to  operate?" 

"I  have  men  and  means.  You  shall  have  all 
news  of  any  importance.  It  shall  be  conveyed 
to  you  through  your  faithful  servants  Francois 
and  Lilly.  My  chateau  shall  be  my  head- 
quarters but  of  course  I  will  not  be  known  as 
Mario  there." 

"And  the  name  of  your  chateau." 

"Chateau  de  Nuit." 

"A  peculiar  name,  where  is  it  located." 

"On  the  boundaries  of  France,  Belgium  and 
Germany." 

The  King  began  to  move  restlessly  in  his 
chair  and  the  color  came  and  went  in  his  face, 
evidently  anxiety  was  on  his  mind. 

"It  is  a  large  stone  building?" 

"Yes  Sire." 

"With  stone  lions  holding  shields  with  the 
Fleurs  de  Lis  on  them?" 

"The  same  your  Majesty." 

"Sacre,  my  private  chateau,  if  he  should  dis- 
cover the  secret"  murmured  the  King  under 


40  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

his  breath  his  hand  fumbling  with  the  pen  he 
held.  "I  must  contrive  to  get  it  out  of  there" 
he  murmured. 

Mario  noticed  the  King's  anxiety,  but  played 
his  part  by  seemingly  seeing  nothing,  though  in 
reality  he  was  observing  the  King's  every  action 
and  it  set  his  mind  working,  trying  to  interpret 
this  demeanor. 

"How  long  have  you  occupied  this  chateau?" 
asked  the  King. 

Probably  a  month." 

"It  is  a  very  mysterious  place  is  it  not?" 

"Very,  but  how  comes  your  Majesty  to  know 
of  the  place?" 

"By  hearsay,  purely  by  hearsay,  for  a  King 
must  know  everything  that  is  in  his  domain." 

"If -his  Majesty  should  accept  me,  anything 
he  should  command  would  be  done." 

"Then  the  only  command  I  could  give  a  spy 
is  do  your  duty." 

"Then  you  accept  me?" 

"Yes,  providing  you  do  not  command  too  high 
a  price  for  your  services." 

"I  ask  nothing." 

"What  do  you  expect." 

"Nothing."" 


Accepted.  41 

"Good,  that  is  well,  you  are  accepted.  Let 
your  deeds  speak  well  against  Napoleon." 

"Have  no  fears  your  Majesty,  they  will." 

'You  are  dismissed,"  and  the  King  began  to 
write  at  the  table  and  Mario  left  with  his  guide. 
As  he  was  about  to  turn  away,  the  woman 
stopped  him. 

"Where  to  now  Mario?" 

"To  Chateau  de  Nuit  to  make  preparations, 
my  men  are  there,"  and  he  strode  off.  The 
woman  followed  him  with  her  eyes  and  mused: 
"No;  he  is  not  spy  for  King  or  France,  he  is 
spy  for  Mario  and  Mario  alone,"  and  she  disap- 
peared into  the  house. 

In  the  room  the  King  was  still  writing  and 
the  Duke  was  pacing  the  floor.  The  King  laid 
down  his  pen  and  stared  into  vacancy.  A  fear 
was  creeping  over  his  mind.  Had  Fate 
prompted  that  strange  being  he  had  just  met,  to 
place  himself  in  his  service  and  also  to  buy  his 
private  chateau,  the  owner  of  which  only  the 
valet  of  the  King  had  known  and  this  servant 
was  dead,  so  the  secret  remained  only  in  his 
hands.  Would  not  this  man  now  turn  to  be  a 
double  edged  weapon  if  he  should  discover  the 
hiding  place  of  the  secret  and  if  used  too  harshly 


42  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

would  rebound  and  cause  its  user  more  harm, 
than  good?  It  was  too  late  to  retract  the  step 
he  had  now  taken,  for  Mario  was  already  in  pos- 
session of  the  chateau  and  it  was  better  for  the 
King  to  ha  ye  him  as  friend,  than  even  neutral. 
The  only  thing  to  do  was  trust  to  luck  or  to 
remove  the  greater  part  of  the  secret. 

Suddenly  the  Duke  interrupted  his  musings: 
"What  do  you  think  of  the  man." 

"In  what  way"  asked  the  King. 

"As  a  spy." 

"Good." 

"Why?" 

"In  the  first  place  he  is  not  a  Frenchman." 

"Why,  how  do  you  know  that?" 

"His  tongue  falters,  his  beard  is  too  sharp 
and  Frenchmen  do  not  wear  cloaks  like  his." 

"What  makes  you  think  he  will  be  good  in 
our  service?" 

"He  is  forced  on  by  more  than  love  of  King 
or  country." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?" 

"Did  you  not  notice  the  continual  sneer  about 
his  lips,  did  you  not  see  that  he  did  not  care  to 
speak  about  the  past  and  did  you  not  notice  him 


Accepted.  43 

correct  me  when  I  was  going  to  call  him  by  a 
title." 

"Yes,  now  I  do  recall  it.  What  do  you  think 
is  his  motive,  or  what  is  it  that  forces  him  to 
become  a  spy  in  our  hands?" 

"Kevenge."  - 

"Kevenge?" 

"Yes  a  man  does  not  sneer,  nor  answer  the 
way  he  did  iinless  there  is  something  more  than 
the  object  to  serve  King  or  country  hidden  in 
his  heart.  He  is  no  common  man.  There  is  a 
motive  in  all  this  and  it  is  revenge." 


44  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IN    WHICH    A     MYSTERIOUS     STRANGER    AP- 
PEARS IN  PARIS. 

Strangers,  who  for  more  than  five  years  had 
passed  up  a  certain  street  in  Paris,  which  I  need 
not  name,  would  stop  in  front  of  a  building 
blackened  by  neglect  and  age  and  would  wonder 
that  such  a  place  should  be  allowed  to  fall  in 
ruin.  On  inquiring  what  house  it  was  they 
would  be  told  that  it  was  called  the  "Alhambra" 
probably  because  it  was  deserted,  or  perhaps 
because  before  it  was  abandoned,  it  had  been 
inhabited  by  a  Moor  of  royal  blood  who  had 
come  from  his  home  in  sunny  Spain  to  rest  and 
enjoy  the  frivolity  of  the  French  nation.  Its 
doors  were  closed  and  bolted.  Its  shutters  were 
fastened  by  their  hooks  and  re-enforced  by  bars 
and  bolts.  The  old  gate,  bearing  the  strange 
design  of  the  Moor's  coat  of  arms  was  rusting 
on  its  hinges,  barring  an  entrance  to  the  court 


A  Mysterious  Stranger  Appears  in  Paris.  45 

yard,  as  firm  as  that  of  a  mausoleum.  Weeds 
had  grown  up  in  the  cracks  of  the  massive 
stones  and  floor  of  the  court  yard,  which  long 
had  ceased  to  echo  to  human  foot-steps. 

The  "Alhambra"  was  indeed  an  appropriate 
name  for  this  place  of  Moorish  desertion.  From 
the  court  ran  a  pair  of  wide  stairs  of  probably 
twelve  or  fifteen  steps  and  then  a  huge  arch, 
the  key  stone  bearing  the  curious  armorial  of  its 
past  lord,  then  a  sort  of  alcove  or  porch  with 
an  arch  to  the  west,  then  another  arch  over  the 
entrance  of  two  large  doors  of  carved  oak. 
Through  these  portals  no  one  had  passed  for 
more  than  five  years,  since  the  day  of  the  Moor's 
untimely  death,  which  stirred  all  Paris  into  a 
state  of  excitement. 

When  the  corpse  was  borne  from  the  house, 
the  old  brown  faced,  white  haired  butler  was 
seen  to  close  the  door,  not  without  one  lingering 
look  of  sadness  and  regret.  Then  he  produced 
a  massive  key  and  the  bolt  turned  without  a 
change  being  made  on  the  interior  of  the  build- 
ing. Then  he  tottered  away,  possibly  return- 
ing to  the  land  of  his  birth,  probably  not,  no 
one  knew.  But  since  then  no  one  had  placed 
a  foot  within  the  court  yard,  much  less  the 


46  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

building  which  stood  silent,  stern,  a  monument 
for  its  deceased  Lord.  Year  came  and  year 
went.  Time  and  the  elements  joined  hands 
every  day  in  tinting  the  stone  building,  with  its 
beautiful  carvings,  a  somber  hue,  as  if  it  at  last 
had  realized  its  loss  and  were  now  assuming  its 
mourning  garb. 

The  Moor's  history,  if  not  found  in  the 
archives  of  the  nation,  was  for  a  day,  or  proba- 
bly a  month,  for  the  world  forgets  soon  and 
the  French  nation  much  sooner,  written  in  the 
minds  of  the  people.  The  first  that  was  known 
of  him  was  his  building  of  the  mansion  we  have 
been  speaking  of,  then  his  entering  it  with  his 
strange  retinue.  Then  his  appearance  at  the 
opera  and  the  showering  of  a  necklace  of  dia- 
monds and  gems  of  priceless  value  at  the  feet 
of  the  prima  donna,  because  she  sang  a  song 
of  his  native  land  with  such  grace  and  fervor. 
N"ext  came  the  rumor  of  his  liaison  with  the 
most  noted  grisette  and  mistress  of  the  times. 
Silks,  gowns  almost  beyond  price,  jewels, 
fortunes  were  heaped  upon  her  in  profusion. 
Nothing  was  made  secret.  Like  husband  and 
wife  they  lived  at  the  "Alhambra."  To  make 
a  reception  or  a  ball  a  success  the  Moor  must 


A  Mysterious  Stranger  Appears  in  Paris.  47 

be  induced  to  grace  the  liall  with  his  presence. 
Once  he  consented  to  be  present,  the  word  was 
given  out  and  the  ball-room  was  crowded  to 
overflowing,  but  should  he  decline  the  invita- 
tion the  hall  was  deserted.  Theaters  were 
crowded  to  excess,  when  it  was  known  that  he 
had  a  box  and  managers  were  not  tardy  in 
announcing  that  fact  when  it  was  true. 

Xow  this  strange  character  had  in  his  retinue 
a  servant  who  accompanied  him  almost  con- 
stantly when  in  public  and  acted  as  a  kind  of 
interpreter  and  manager.  Tall,  straight  and 
handsome  with  his  olive  skin  and  black  hair  and 
eyes  which  expressed  as  much  as  his  lips  spoke, 
quiet,  but  sharp  and  shrewd,  he  had  no  match 
as  a  valet  and  companion. 

A  year  had  passed  since  the  Moor's  entrance 
into  Paris,  when  one  morning,  the  old  gray 
haired  butler  came  before  his  master  and  in 
his  strange  and  mysterious  way  made  it  clear 
to  his  Lord,  without  offending  him,  that  it  was 
to  his  advantage  to  watch  his  mistress  and  his 
servant. 

The  Moor  laid  a  trap  and  giving  out  that  he 
should  be  gone  for  a  night,  he  kindly  dismissed 
the  valet,  as  he  wished  to  go  unattended.  The 


48  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

servant  fearing  a  plot,  as  it  was  an  unusual 
occurrence  for  the  Lord  to  go  into  public  with- 
out his  company,  mounted  a  horse  and  followed 
the  brougham  which  bore  his  Lord.  The  Moor 
knowing  the  shrewdness  of  his  servant  and  see- 
ing the  horse  following  his  carriage,  ordered 
the  coachman  to  drive  to  the  Tuileries.  This 
threw  the  young  man  off  his  guard,  as  he 
thought  he  was  going  to  visit  the  King  and 
wished  to  see  him  in  secret.  So  he  returned. 

About  midnight  the  Moor  also  returned  and 
quietly  entered  the  house  and  peering  through 
the  curtains  of  his  mistress'  room  he  found  her 
in  the  arms  of  her  lover.  For  a  moment  he 
gazed,  then  his  passion  got  the  best  of  him  and 
he  thrust  the  curtains  aside.  The  woman 
shrieked,  but  the  young  Moor  was  calm  and 
quiet.  On  the  wall,  were  hung  many  strange 
moorish  weapons  as  ornaments.  The  lord 
grasped  a  scimitar  and  rushed  upon  the  youth 
who  had  stolen  the  affections  of  his  mistress. 
As  he  struck  the  young  man  swerved  to  one 
side  and  the  blow  which  otherwise  would  have 
split  his  skull,  crashed  into  his  shoulder  and 
dyed  his  gown  with  his  blood.  Then  they  drew 
closer  and  a  hand  to  hand  struggle  ensued;  but 


A  Mysterious  Stranger  Appears  in  Paris.  49 

the  loss  of  blood  began  to  tell  on  the  youth  for 
each  moment  he  was  growing  weaker. 

A  long  curved  dagger  hung  at  his  side,  but  it 
was  on  the  side  which  was  unhurt  and  in  such 
a  position  that  he  could  not  reach  it.  Suddenly 
the  woman  recovering  from  her  fear  and  realiz- 
ing the  result  if  the  youth  should  fail  to  strangle 
the  lord,  stole  to  his  side  and  drew  the  long 
glittering  blade  from  its  sheath  and  pressed  the 
handle  in  the  youth's  hand,  who  grasped  it 
tremblingly  for  life  was  fast  ebbing  from  him. 
With  his  last  effort,  he  raised  it  and  plunged  its 
curved  blade  in  his  old  master's  breast.  Then 
both  sank  to  the  floor  with  the  life  gone  from 
one  and  fast  ebbing  from  the  other.  Then 
the  woman  fled  from  the  house  and  disappeared. 
Ko  one  knew  where. 

Then  came  a  lapse  of  many  years  during 
which  the  building  stood  lonely  and  silent.  The 
old  butler  had  never  appeared,  but  some 
believed  he  would.  Strange  to  say  the  mis- 
tress had  been  the  only  person,  who  was  not 
a  Moor,  who  had  seen  the  interior  decorations 
and  embellishments  of  this  strange  mansion. 
No  one  except  her  had  gone  farther  than  the 
door  and  it  must  have  caused  much  talk  and 


50  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

wonder  when,  one  day  the  doors  were  seen  to 
open  and  a  man,  handsomely  dressed,  come  out. 
He  must  have  come  during  the  night  for  no 
one  saw  him  enter.  The  shutters  were  being 
opened  and  cleaned.  The  old  lock  on  the  gate 
had  been  turned  and  allowed  the  gates  to  part 
and  swing  back  on  their  rusty  hinges.  The 
oak  door  was  being  polished  the  windows 
cleaned  and  everything  was  being  thoroughly 
renovated.  After  awhile,  the  man  returned  in 
his  carriage,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  beautiful  black 
horses  and  embellished  with  a  coat  of  arms  on 
its  doors.  The  coachman  who  assisted  the  man 
was  dressed  in  full  livery  and  at  the  door  he 
was  met  by  a  valet,  dressed  as  many  a  courtier 
wished  to  be.  After  taking  a  scrutinizing 
glance  at  the  building,  the  man  entered  the 
house  followed  by  his  valet. 

The  tongues  of  the  neighborhood  were  set 
wagging.  Everybody  spoke  about  the  new 
occupant  of  the  "Alhambra"  and  guessed  who 
he  might  be.  His  carriage  bore  an  armorial, 
strange  indeed,  but  it  sufficed,  he  was  of  some 
nobility.  His  form  was  good,  his  face  hand- 
some and  his  eyes  bright  and  sharp,  his  hair 
and  beard  black.  This  the  women  noticed.  His 


A  Mysterious  Stranger  Appears  in  Paris.  51 

horses  were  good,  his  carriage  of  the  latest 
style,  his  dress  up-to-date,  his  demeanor  cold  and 
haughty,  even  to  indifference.  This  the  men 
noticed.  But  no  one  could  come  to  a  conclusion 
as  to  who  he  was  and  from  whence  he  came. 

"Would  he  come  to  the  opera  that  night?" 
the  women  wondered. 

"Would  he  play  at  Madame  Stilsits?"  the 
men  hoped. 

All  day  long  the  "Alhambra"  was  being 
placed  in  a  proper  state  for  its  new  master,  but 
strange  to  say,  not  a  bit  of  new  furniture  was 
brought  to  the  house.  All  day  long  carriages 
passed  by  to  see  the  changes  and  even  Napoleon 
himself  would  have  passed,  had  not  etiquette 
placed  a  restraint  on  rulers,  for  so  strange  a 
thing  was  it  to  see  that  building,  which  had 
stood  vacant  for  so  many  years,  now  occupied 
that  it  seemed  almost  a  miracle.  Then  again, 
it  brought  back  recollections  of  the  Moor  and 
his  murder  and  assassination. 

Two  days  passed  and  the  stranger  of  the 
"Alhambra"  did  not  appear  either  at  the  opera 
or  at  Madame  Stilsits;  but  on  the  third  night 
there  was  a  vacant  box  at  the  theater.  All  eyes 
were  directed  towards  it  hoping,  that  the 


52  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

stranger  might  appear.  Bets  were  even  made 
that  he  would.  The  manager  being  asked  if  he 
would  come  said  that  he  did  not  know,  but 
that  a  servant  in  livery  had  bought  the  box  for 
the  season  and  he  could  not  tell  whom  it  was  for. 

The  curtain  was  falling  on  the  conclusion  of 
the  first  act  and  no  one  had  entered  the  box. 
The  audience  was  impatient  to  see  the  owner, 
but  he  did  not  come.  The  curtain  arose  for  the 
next  act  and  for  an  instant  there  was  darkness 
in  the  hall,  necessitated  to  form  some  stage 
effect.  When  the  eyes  had  become  accustomed 
to  the  gloom,  they  were  turned  towards  the  box. 
It  was  occupied.  A  man  sat  calmly  gazing  at 
the  stage.  A  general  murmur  of,  "there  he  is," 
arose  in  the  hall  to  the  annoyance  of  the  actors. 
A  valet  stood  at  the  door  of  the  box  as  if  he  had 
been  there  all  evening.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  second  act  and  the  hall  was  again  in  a  blaze; 
every  one  gazed  at  the  occupant  of  the  box, 
where  the  stranger  sat  gazing  about  him,  as  if 
nothing  unusual  were  occurring.  Every  one 
desired  to  visit  him;  but  no  one  knew  him. 

It  happened  that  Madame  de  Ebersville  and 
a  crowd  occupied  a  box  near  that  of  the  stranger, 
have  a  plan  to  gain  » 


A  Mysterious  Stranger  Appears  in  Paris.  53 

visit  from  the  stranger."  She  leaned  forward, 
as  if  intensely  studying  some  face  across  the  hall, 
then  as  if  not  noticing  what  she  were  doing, 
she  let  her  kerchief  fall,  directly  into  the 
stranger's  box.  She  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  look  if  it  had  fallen  in  the  right  place. 
The  crowd  seeing  her  act  cheered.  The 
stranger  picked  up  the  kerchief,  handed  it  to 
his  valet  with  a  card  and  again  turned  to  the 
orchestra. 

The  valet  presented  himself  at  the  door  of 
Madame  de  Ebersville's  box  and  handed  her  the 
kerchief  with  a  bow.  The  hall  was  in  an  uproar 
of  laughter  for  they  knew  that  all  this  had  been 
done  to  gain  a  visit  from  the  stranger.  The 
valet  handed  her  the  kerchief  and  card  saying, 
"My  lord  desires  a  visit  tomorrow." 

Although  she  had  not  gained  what  she 
desired,  she  had  received  something  just  as  good, 
for  now  it  would  be  through  her  that  he  would 
be  introduced  into  society.  Thus  musing  she 
read  the  card  she  held  in  her  hand;  "Prince  de 
Tristesse." 

In  showing  the  card  to  the  other  occupants  of 
the  box,  she  held  it  high  enough  for  the  audi- 
ence to  see.  The  laughter  subsided. 


54  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Prince  of  Sadness"  what  a  strange  name  she 
murmured  as  she  handed  the  card  to  her  husband 
an  elderly  man  while  she  was  still  young. 

"You  are  not  going  to  take  advantage  of  this 
are  you?"  he  asked. 

"Why  not,"  she  replied?  "It  will  now  be 
through  me  that  he  will  be  introduced  into 
society.  Do  you  think  that  I  would  lose  this 
opportunity?  It  would  be  foolish  if  I  did  so. 
You  will  go  with  me  will  you  not  Eugenie"  she 
asked  tourning  towards  a  young  lady  who  sat  in 
the  rear  of  the  box. 

"If  I  should  not  be  intruding  Madame  I 
would  be  pleased  to  accompany  you"  she 
answered  in  a  soft  sweet  voice. 


Madame's  Visit.  55 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MADAME'S  VISIT. 

The  next  afternoon,  the  carriage  of  Madame 
de  Ebersville  drove  up  in  front  of  the  "Alham- 
bra"  and  Madame  and  her  companion  Eugenie 
alighted  and  mounted  the  steps.  Hardly  had 
they  reached  the  alcove,  when  the  door  noise- 
lessly swung  back  and  a  valet  ushered  them 
into  a  parlor,  exquisitely  decorated  with  Moorish 
draperies  and  hangings.  On  the  floor  of  flesh 
colored,  rose  marble  were  heavy  rugs  into  which 
their  feet  sunk  up  to  the  ankles. 

Rich  draperies  of  gold  and  purple  cloths  hung 
from  the  great  arch  above  the  doors,  which  gave 
a  pleasing  contrast  to  the  almost  barren  pink 
colored  marble  walls.  Here  and  there  hung 
massive  paintings  of  warm  landscape,  scenes  of 
sunny  Spain.  In  corners  stood  life  size  statues 
of  nymphs  and  cupids,  carved  from  the  same 
material  as  the  floor  and  walls  and  the  rosy  tints 


56  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

of  the  figures  and  their  beautifully  molded 
forms,  gave  them  almost  a  life  like  appearance. 

The  high  spacious  ceilings  were  embellished 
with  figures  in  exquisite  mosaic  work.  From 
the  four  corners  of  the  ceiling  of  the  room, 
hung  the  half  body  of  a  nude  figure,  holding  in 
her  outstretched  hands  a  lamp,  which  when  lit 
shed  a  light  of  wonderful  brilliancy  throughout 
the  room.  From  a  distance,  somewhere,  they 
could  hear  the  musical  ripple  and  drip  of  a 
fountain. 

Madame  de  Ebersville  nodded  to  her  com- 
panion. "Is  it  not  wonderful,  ~L  should  like  to 
see  more,"  she  said.  Just  then  the  curtains 
drew  apart  and  the  stranger  at  the  opera,  of 
the  night  before,  stood  in  the  door-way.  "Ah 
Madame,  pardon  the  delay  and  you  Mandamoi- 
selle  also."  Madame  was  wondering  how  he 
knew  by  what  titles  to  call  them  and  as  a 
venture  to  open  the  conversation  began: 

"It  is  we  who  are  to  be  pardoned  prince,  for 
this  is  very  embarrassing  to  you,  my  name  is — 

"Madame  Andreas  de  Ebersville,"  interrupted 
the  prince. 

"Now  that  you  know  me,  allow  me  to  intro- 
duce my  friend  Madamoiselle — 


Madame's  Visit.  57 

"Eugenie  de  Veres,  daughter  of  Baron  de 
Veres." 

"Correct,  but  how  came  you  to  know  us." 

"That  is  my  business,  in  fact  the  affair  of 
every  gentleman  who  expects  a  visit  in  order  not 
to  create  embarrassment.  But  pray  be  seated. 
It  is  indeed  to  the  lucky  mishap  of  the  kerchief 
that  I  owe  this  visit." 

"It  was  very  distressing  to  me." 

"Then,  but  I  hope  not  now.  Madamoiselle 
is  admiring  my  paintings." 

"Yes,  they  are  beautiful;  such  coloring  and 
such  grace  are  seldom  seen." 

"Yes;  the  names  are  on  the  pictures;  but  I 
do  not  know  them  they  are  by  foreign  artists.  I 
should  have  thought  that  Madame  and  you 
Madamoiselle  Eugenie  would  have  seen  them 
before. 

"Prince,  you  are  not  acquainted  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  'Alhambra'  or  you  would  not  speak 
that  way"  interposed  the  elder  lady,  "no  one 
excepting  one  has  ever  placed  himself  in  this 
house  who  was  not  a  Moor." 

"Ah  that  is  true?  I  did  not  know  that.  So 
the  place  was  hidden  from  mortal  eyes.  Well 
it  is  very  strange." 


58  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"But  Monsieur  should  have  known  the  his- 
tory of  this  house  hefore  he  bought  it." 

"I  did  not  buy  it.  But  as  to  the  Moor's 
history,  I  am  thoroughly  acquainted  with  it." 

Madame  de  Ebersville  was  in  torture  to  know 
how  the  "Alhambra"  had  come  into  his  posses- 
sion if  he  had  not  bought  it,  but  felt  that  it 
would  be  too  rude  to  ask.  Perhaps  if  she  should 
lead  the  way  he  would  tell  of  his  own  accord. 

"Well  if  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  interior 
of  this  house  has  been  denied  you  I  shall  not  be 
like  the  Moor.  I  shall  conduct  you  around  and 
be  pleased  to  show  you  through  its  mysteries  and 
its  surprises." 

The  prince  arose  and  his  companions  did  like- 
wise and  holding  the  curtains  apart  he  led  them 
into  a  sort  of  hall-way,  which  divided  the  build- 
ing into  two  parts  and  led  them  into  what  ap- 
peared to  be  a  kind  of  conservatory,  for  in  the 
distance  they  could  see  the  green  of  luxurious 
vegetation.  The  hall  was  of  pure  red  granite, 
walls,  floor,  ceiling  and  all  and  at  every  door 
hung  heavy  maroon  draperies,  bordered  and 
adorned  with  gold.  Directly  in  front  of  them 
was  a  large  arched  doorway,  protected  by  no  cur- 
tains and  through  this  they  could  see  the  silvery 


Madame's  Visit.  59 

spray  of  the  fountain  as  it  rose  and  fell  into  the 
great  basin.  Nymphs,  holding  jars  in  their 
hands,  were  scattering  sprays  over  the  beautiful 
large  pond  lilies  floating  in  the  bowl,  while  a 
colossal  statue  of  Neptune,  waving  his  hand  to 
myriads  of  life  size  mermaids,  sent  a  cooling 
refreshment  to  their  armsful  of  blood  red  roses. 
On  all  sides  were  blossoms  emitting  delightful 
fragrance.  Here,  a  huge  banana  tree  raised  its 
head  towards  the  glass  roof  as  if  to  be  the  first  to 
reach  the  rays  of  the  sun;  there  a  modest  patch 
of  violets  bloomed  and  perfumed  the  air,  narcis- 
sus, daisies,  hibiscus,  tulips,  flowers  from  every 
country,  clime  and  zone  all  mingled  in  a  happy 
unison. 

"Oh  this  is  a  regular  paradise"  cried  Eugenie 
delighted  with  the  scene  before  her. 

Next,  the  prince  led  them  into  the  dining 
hall,  a  spacious  room  in  which  not  a  bit  of 
marble  appeared,  for  all  was  of  solid  oak.  A 
long  table  sat  solidly  with  its  lion  carved  feet 
upon  a  floor  polished  into  the  brilliancy  and 
smoothness  of  a  mirror.  Heavy  oaken  chairs, 
to  match  the  table  with  their  soft  morocco  seats 
and  backs,  were  dispersed  throughout  the  room. 

Directly  back  of  the  head  of  the  table,  ex- 


60  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

tending  out  from  the  walls,  Avcre  two  massive 
heraldic  lions  grasping  between  them  a  large 
shield,  now  bearing  the  arms  of  the  Prince  of 
Sadness,  instead  of  that  of  the  Moor.  All  the 
panels  of  the  walls  were  carved  and  inlaid  with 
darker  and  lighter  wood. 

From  here  he  led  them  into  the  library  a 
room  all  of  cherry,  very  plain,  with  cases  of 
books  and  manuscripts,  all  bound  in  cherry 
colored  leather,  covering  the  extent  of  the  walls 
from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling.  At  one  end  of  the 
room  stood  a  large  desk  with  papers  scattered 
about  in  reckless  profusion.  They  then  left  the 
library  and  the  prince  lifting  the  curtain,  showed 
them  into  a  hall  equally  as  large  as  the  con- 
servatory, the  floor  of  which  was  of  mosaic 
work. 

"This"  said  the  prince  "is  the  -art  hall  of  the 
"Alhambra." 

The  walls,  up  to  half  their  height  were  per- 
fectly plain  polished  marble,  but. from  there  on 
up  they  were  one  mass  of  carving,  figure  after 
figure,  design  after  design,  but  none  alike,  ran 
the  whole  length  of  the  walls  and  as  they 
reached  the  ceiling  became  more  complicated 
and  beautiful.  At  last  in  the  center,  terminat- 


Madame's  Visit.  61 

ing  into  a  large  beautiful  chandelier,  hanging 
half  way  down  from  the  great  dome  above  by 
the  arms  of  sylphs,  dragons,  nymphs,  and  satyrs 
in  a  profusion  of  a  thousand  lights.  All  through 
the  hall  stood  statues  and  statuettes,  some  of 
every  marble  and  granite  found  in  the  world. 
Here  was  a  Venus  de  Milo,  here  a  Diana,  there 
a  Venus  and  a  Cupid.  But  in  the  center  of  the 
room  stood  the  grandest  of  all. 

"That,"  said  the  prince,  "is  known  as  the  blind 
statue." 

"Oh,  it  is  beautiful,  magnificent'7  cried  both 
the  women  in  one  voice. 

It  was  a  group  with  the  central  figure  that  of 
a  beautiful  Greek  slave  girl,  ready  for  the  bath 
and  her  form  was  molded  from  the  most  beauti- 
ful flesh  colored  marble  while  near  her,  in  splen- 
did contrast,  were  two  kneeling  black  waiting 
maids,  shaped  from  the  blackest  of  marble. 

"All  is  perfect  but  the  eyes  of  the  bather," 
exclaimed  Madame  de  Ebersville. 

"That  is  partially  why  it  is  called  the  blind 
statue.  The  carver  of  this  grand  work,  had  al- 
most finished  his  task,  when  one  day  while  work- 
ing with  his  chisel  a  piece  of  marble  struck  him 
in  the  eye.  It  totally  disabled  the  one  optic  and 


61  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  other  was  so  sensitive  to  the  effect,  that  slowly 
it  began  to  dim.  The  poor  sculptor  toiled  day 
and  night  so  as  to  finish  before  he  should  be 
totally  blind.  Xot  a  moment's  rest  would  he 
take.  All  was  finished  to  the  eyes  of  that  beau- 
tiful figure  when,  his  sight  vanished  and  under 
the  strain  he  died  at  the  feet  of  the  creation  he 
had  given  every  attribute  of  outward  seeming, 
save  the  "window  of  the  soul."  If  Madame  will 
come  soon  again  and  you  also  Madamoiselle,  I 
will  be  pleased  to  show  you  the  rest  of  the  house, 
but  now  we  will  withdraw  to  the  parlor  and  be 
served  and  over  the  tea-cup  I  will  tell  you  how 
I  came  to  be  the  possessor  of  the  "Alhambra." 

They  returned  to  the  parlor  and  hardly  had 
they  entered  when  they  were  waited  on  by  a 
servant  in  full  livery. 

"Oh  do  tell  us  how  this  paradise  came  into 
your  possession." 

"Well,  it  came  about  in  this  way.  It  is  a 
strange  tale.  I  was  traveling  in  southern  Spain 
and  in  an  out  of  the  way  place,  near  Granada, 
I  came  upon  an  old  gray-haired  man  lying  on 
the  ground.  Thinking  him  asleep  I  passed  by 
very  lightly,  in  order  not  to  disturb  him.  But 
some  strange  feeling  possessed  me  and  I  returned 


Madame's  Visit.  63 

and  saw  that  it  was  not  a  natural  sleep  that  held 
him  so  still  and  that  he  had  fainted.  Placing 
my  flask  of  liquor  to  his  lips  and  forcing  a  few 
drops  into  his  mouth,  he  after  awhile  opened  his 
eyes  and  gazed  about  him.  He  thanked  me 
with  great  vehemence  and  after  he  gained 
enough  strength  began  a  rambling  conversation. 
Then  he  related  to  me  how  his  master,  a  Moor 
of  royal  blood,  had  taken  the  idea  into  his  head 
to  go  to  some  foreign  land  and  build  a  palace 
and  there  live  a  life  of  luxury. 

The  poor  old  man  was  forced  to  go  with  him. 
Then  he  told  of  the  tragedy  and  how  after  it 
was  all  over  he  had  taken  the  keys,  left  the 
house  just  as  it  was  and  had  wandered  back 
without  any  funds,  excepting  what  he  had  on 
his  person  and  they  were  soon  exhausted,  for  he 
would  not  touch  anything  in  the  polluted  house. 
Then  he  told  how  at  last  he  had  reached  the 
sunny  shores  of  Spain  to  die  in  his  native  land 
and  now  that  he  was  there,  all  was  over,  but  to 
relieve  himself  of  a  burden  and  that  was  to  rid 
himself  of  this  place  in  France.  Then  he 
handed  me  a  key  from  beneath  his  gown  and 
told  me  the  exact  location  of  the  "Alhambra" 
and  said  that  whoever  possessed  the  knowledge 


64  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

of  a  secret  hiding  place,  in  the  building,  would 
then  become  possessor  of  the  palace.  As  he  was 
fast  sinking  and  as  no  one,  excepting  the  Moor 
and  himself  had  known  of  the  place,  he  told  me 
of  it." 

"So  you  did  not  buy  the  palace?"  said  Ma- 
dame de  Ebersville. 

"Yes  Madame,  I  purchased  it  at  the  price  of 
a  decent  burial." 

"Prince,  you  are  strange;  you  have  told  us 
nothing  but  sad  tales"  said  Eugenie. 

"Madamoiselle  oftentimes  circumstances  and 
surroundings  force  us  into  moods  of  melancholy 
or  happiness.  But  as  the  "Alhambra"  seems  to 
be  a  fated  place  and  as  you  desired  to  know  its 
history,  probably  that  was  conducive  to  the 
mood." 

"As  the  prince  has  been  so  kind  in  showing 
us  into  the  mysteries,  which  so  few  have  seen, 
I  feel  it  my  duty  to  introduce  him  into  society 
and  at  the  court." 

"Into  society  perhaps  Madame,  but  not  at 
court." 

"Ah  I  thought  the  name  you  have  was  as- 
sumed." 

"You  have  guessed  correctly  and  if  I  should 


Madame's  Visit.  65 

go  to  court  I  would  have  to  lay  aside  my  pseu- 
donym and  that  I  do  not  wish  to  do." 

''But  nevertheless  that  will  not  prevent  me 
introducing  you  at  Madame  Stilsits,  who  has 
many  friends,  who  visit  her  daily.  Gaming 
goes  on  the  whole  night  through  and  all  the  lat- 
est news  is  there  discussed  and  all  gossip  is 
brought  to  view." 

"That  will  suit  me  greatly.  As  for  playing  I 
can  play  but  little  as  Madame  will  see  and  as  for 
gossip  I  talk  little,  but  hear  much;  so  it  will 
pjease  me  any  time." 

"Let  me  see,  this  is  Wednesday;  will  Friday 
suit?" 

"With  pleasure." 

"So  be  it  then.  Come  Eugenie,  it  is  growing 
late.  Au  revoir  prince,  your  name  suits  you." 

"An  revoir  Madame  until  Friday,  and  you 
Madamoiselle,  will  you  be  \vith  us?" 

"Yes  I  shall  come  too.     Au  revoir." 

Madame  de  Ebersville  and  Eugenie  entered 
the  carriage  and  drove  away. 

"What  a  beautiful  house"  said  Eugenie. 

"Yes,  and  what  a  beautiful  man." 

"He  is  indeed  strange,  so  obliging  and  still  so 
cold  and  indifferent.  He  will  make  quite  a  stir 


66  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

ft 

at  Madame  Stilsits,  and  to  think  that  it  is  you 
who  will  introduce  him;  but  may  he  not  lose 
too  much  in  her  place  there?" 

"That  is  his  own  look  out.  He  cannot  blame 
me  if  he  loses.  I  will  have  done  my  part  but 
here  we  are"  and  they  both  alighted  from  the 
carriage  at  Madame  de  Ebersville's  home. 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       67 


CHAPTER  V: 

MADA'ME  MAKES  AN  AGREEMENT. 

The  next  evening  the  prince  occupied  his  box 
at  the  opera  and  Madame  and  Eugenie  occupied 
theirs  also.  Monsieur  Le  Baron  de  Ebersville 
was  not  present.  The  beauty  of  the  "Alham- 
bra"  had  reached  many  ears,  of  course  through 
the  channel  which  was  only  open  and  that  was 
Madame  de  Ebersville,  and  every  one  sat  gazing 
at  the  master  of  such  a  palace,  which  was  finer 
than  that  of  the  Emperor.  The  curtain  had 
fallen  on  the  first  act  when  Madame  turned  to 
Eugenie:  "I  should  be  pleased  to  receive  the 
prince  in  our  box  and  you  Eugenie,  would  it 
please  you?" 

The  color  in  Eugenie's  face  expressed  her 
sentiments  more  eloquently  than  her  meek  "yes." 
Hardly  had  they  spoken,  when  the  door  opened 
and  the  prince  entered. 


68  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Madame,  I  should  hope  that  I  am  not  intrud- 
ing." 

"Not  in  the  least;  we  are  always  pleased  to 
see  your  Grace.  But  the  play,  does  it  suit  your 
taste?" 

"Very  much  so.  I  am  delighted  with  your 
French  renditions.  Why  so  pensive  Madam- 
oiselle;  are  you  in  love  or  contemplating  mar- 
riage? Love  is  but  the  prelude  to  marriage  as 
the  first  act  to  a  tragedy.  Shun  the  prelude  and 
the  play  will  cease." 

"Why  prince  to  hear  you  speak  one  should 
think  that  you  have  been  disappointed  in  love?" 

"Perhaps,  Madame.  But  the  bards  of  old  and 
the  bards  of  today  have  painted  only  the  beauti- 
ful side  of  love.  They  have  only  pictured  it 
as  a  pathway  of  beautiful  flowers,  emitting  a 
pleasing  perfume.  The  sky  overhead  in  their 
dreams  is  pure  ethereal  blue,  the  sun  shines 
bright  and  laughs  on  the  lovers'  journey,  as  they 
wander  hand  in  hand.  But  the  romanciers  and 
the  tragedians'  pen,  pictures  it  oftentimes  in  a 
truer  light.  Joy  and  pain  follow  closely  on  each 
others  heels  and  fight  a  battle  royal  for  su- 
premacy. But  as  a  general  thing  pain  conquers 
and  joy  falls  by  the  wayside.  The  path  in  the 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       69 

romance  and  tragedy  is  often  covered  with, 
thistles  and  thorns,  then  stretches  of  barren  sand, 
the  sky  is  dark  and  the  sun  is  obscured  by  black 
ominous  clouds;  only  now  and  then  appears  a 
ray  of  brightness  through  the  rain  drops  of 
tears." 

"Oh  prince,  the  play  has  led  you  into  this 
mood.  You  must  cast  it  off  even  if  it  is  becom- 
ing to  you." 

"My  name  Madame,  signifies  my  disposition." 

Eugenie  was  occupied  gazing  at  the  audience. 

"But  the  Baron,  why  is  he  not  here  tonight 
Madame?"  asked  the  prince  in  an  undertone. 

"He  is  ill." 

"Seriously?" 

"No,  only  a  fit  of  indisposition  caused  by — " 

"Reverses,"  he  says. 

"Prince  you  are  indeed  plain  spoken.  What 
do  you  mean?" 

"Only  that  Monsieur  le  Baron  has  speculated 
and  lost." 

"But  how  came  you  to  know?" 

"There  are  oftentimes  things  which  it  is  ones 
duty  to  know." 

"But  if  this  should  get  out?  Prince  I  speak 
frankly  with  you,  for  I  feel  that  I  can  trust  you. 


yo  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

Monsieur  le  Baron  has  speculated.  Last  even- 
ing when  I  returned  from  your  house  I  found 
him  sitting  alone  in  deep  thought.  I  could  see 
that  something  had  occurred.  He  would  not 
tell  me  at  first,  but  after  awhile  he  told  me  the 
exact  state  of  affairs.  He  had  speculated  in 
silks  and  today  had  lost.  This  has  not  been  his 
first  reverse.  Steadily  has  fortune  turned 
against  him,  until  hoping  to  gain  back  all,  he 
staked  everything  today.  He  has  lost.  We 
are  ruined,  utterly  ruined.  Tomorrow  a  vast 
sum  is  due,  if  we  get  no  renewal  and  the  news 
of  our  loss  gets  noised  around  we  shall  be  lost." 

"Madame  there  is  no  poison  for  which  there 
is  not  an  antidote,  nor  an  evil  for  which  there  is 
not  a  remedy.  All  is  not  lost." 

"What  do  you  mean?  I  cannot  understand 
you." 

"I  mean  this,  Madame,  that  you  will  get  a 
renewal  tomorrow,  only  follow  my  dictates  and 
answer  my  questions.  Is  the  man  to  whom  your 
husband  is  indebted  in  this  house?" 

"Yes  in  one  of  the  boxes." 

"That  is  good,  all  will  be  well." 

"I  do  not  understand." 

"He  will  not  hear  of  the  failure  this  afternoon. 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       71 

]\Iy  presence  in  your  box  will  make  him  feel 
secure  and  he  would  give  much  to  make  my 
acquaintance;  is  it  not  so?" 

"It  is,  I  spoke  to  some  of  his  family  today. 
But  how  did  you  know?" 

"As  to  that  I  will  not  speak,  but  now  to  make 
things  more  secure  I  shall  give  to  you  a  box, 
which  when  you  see  him  looking  directly  at  us 
and  of  course  at  some  proper  time  in  the  play, 
you  will  throw  it  at  the  feet  of  the  prima  donna;" 
and  with  this  from  his  pocket  he  took  a  pale 
blue  plush  box  and  handed  it  to  her  as  he  opened 
it. 

"!N"o  no"  cried  Madame  "I  cannot  think  of 
it." 

"But  you  must.  Still  the  game  is  not  yet 
played.  Do  not  think  you  can  never  repay  me 
for  you  can." 

"No  I  could  never  repay  you." 

"Yes.  You  are  in  a  favorable  position  at 
court." 

"Yes." 

"In  fact  the  Empress  is-  confidential  to  a  cer- 
tain extent." 

"You  are  wonderful,  you  know  everything." 

"Not  everything,  there  are  still  things  I  de- 


yi  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

sire  to  know  and  following  Cicero's  adage  of: 
"whenever  you  desire  to  find  out  a  secret  go  to 
the  man's  mistress;"  in  this  case  it  is  his  wife. 
There  are  things  I  desire  to  know.  In  that  way 
you  can  repay  me." 

"You  are  then  a  spy?" 

"Perhaps." 

"And  you  want  me  to  be  one  also." 

"Not  necessarily." 

"I  cannot.     It  would  be  wrong." 

"Madame,  it  is  hard  to  lose  one's  position." 

"But  you  give  us  only  a  temporary  relief." 

"I  told  you  that  the  game  was  not  yet  finished. 
Tomorrow  night  we  go  to  Madame  Stilsits.  I 
shall  play  and  you  shall  play  also." 

"But  if  I  lose." 

"Madame  will  not  lose.  Come,  now  is  the 
time." 

"I  cannot.     I  cannot." 

"It  is  hard  to  fail.     Now  or  all  will  be  lost." 

The  prima  donna  had  just  finished  a  pretty 
love  pleading.  Madame  de  Ebersville  arose  in 
the  box  and  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  her.  For 
a  moment  she  paused  as  if  hesitating,  then  she 
tossed  the  blue  box  at  the  feet  of  the  prima 
donna.  There  was  a  burst  of  applause  from  the 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       73 

audience.  The  die  had  been  cast.  A  smile 
spread  about  the  prince's  lips  as  he  whispered 
"well  done,  he  was  looking  directly  at  you." 

Then  a  breath  of  silence  spread  over  the  house 
as  the  prima  donna  stooped  to  pick  up  the  box 
and  opening  it  she  drew  forth  a  beautiful  neck- 
lace of  diamonds  formed  into  three  strands  and 
terminating  at  the  center  into  a  beautiful  cluster, 
which  sparkled  in  the  brilliant  light  with  daz- 
zling fire.  Then  she  turned,  after  clasping  the 
necklace  about  her  neck  and  in  her  best  effort 
sang  the  song  again,  facing  the  Madame's  box. 
But  Madame  seemed  not  to  hear  it.  Her  face 
was  as  white  as  her  dress  and  beads  of  perspira- 
tion were  standing  on  her  forehead. 

"What  an  awful  power  had  this  man,"  she 
was  wondering  and  the  burst  of  applause  from 
the  audience  at  the  conclusion  of  the  song  awoke 
her  from  her  revery  and  she  applauded  with  the 
rest. 

All  through  the  rest  of  the  performance,  Ma- 
dame sat  as  in  a  dream.  She  then  only  realized 
the  power  of  this  man  who  had  disguised  him- 
self as  the  Prince  of  Sadness  and  the  contract 
she  had  entered  upon,  but  then  she  calmed  her- 
self by  the  thought,  that  it  was  for  the  best. 


74  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

The  prince  was  conversing  with  Eugenie  whose 
beaming  face  plainly  showed  the  pleasure  his 
attentions  gave  her.  To  Eugenie  he  gave  the 
explanation,  that  he  himself  had  intended  to  give 
the  necklase  to  the  prima  donna  but  thought  the 
latter  course  the  best.  Any  explanation  would 
have  sufficed  with  Eugenie,  for  anything  he 
might  do  was  correct  in  her  eyes. 

At  last  the  performance  was  concluded  and  the 
prince  assisted  them  into  their  carriage  and  wish- 
ing them  a  safe  journey,  he  turned  away  with  a 
smile  on  his  face. 

"No  Madame;  the  game  is  not  yet  played. 
It  has  just  begun.  Tomorrow  night  you  will 
win  and  you  are  mine."  Then  he  was  driven  to 
the  "Alhambra"  where  he  was  met  by  his  gray- 
headed  valet. 

"Gaston  have  everything  in  preparation  to 
leave  in  a  day  or  so.  We  shall  soon  leave  Paris 
for  awhile." 

"Monsieur,  a  message  for  you,"  and  the  valet 
handed  him  a  sealed  letter  which  the  prince  hast- 
ily read. 

"It  is  true;  Napoleon  is  pushing  on  to  Russia. 
Fleur  de  Lis." 

Madame  de  Ebersville's  carriage  was  whirling 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       75 

over  the  pavements  towards  the  home  of  Eu- 
genie. Both  the  occupants  sat  in  silence,  in 
thought.  Both  debating,  one  with  herself,  the 
other  with  fortune.  Madame  saw  only  the 
prince's  smile  of  victory,  while  Eugenie  heard 
only  his  kind  polished  words.  Madame  knew 
that  her  husband  would  hear  of  her  actions  at 
the  opera  and  knew  that  she  would  have  to 
give  an  explanation.  What  should  it  be? 
Well  she  would  tell  him  all.  ISTo,  that  would 
not  do  she  was  a  spy  and  her  husband  in  the 
good  graces  of  jSTapoleon's  favor.  She  would 
only  tell  him  that  it  was  the  prince,  who  assisted 
her  and  instead  of  him  giving  the  necklace  to 
the  actress  as  he  had  intended  to  do,  he  had  given 
it  to  her,  merely  as  an  honor.  She  still  had  some 
money  of  her  own  left,  if  she  lost  that  little, 
that  would  not  amount  to  much,  while  on  the 
other  hand  if  she  won,  something  might  still  be 
regained.  Well  at  any  rate  the  stake  was  large 
and  she  must  meet  it.  Then  either  victory  and 
the  recovery  of  position  or  loss  and  failure.  At 
any  rate  the  game  was  begun  and  must  be  played 
to  its  end. 

"Love  is  but  the  prelude  to  marriage  as  the 
first  act  to  a  tragedy.     Shun  the  prelude  and  the 


76  The  Clash  of  Steel 

play  will  cease,"  was  rumbling  in  Eugenie's  ears. 
She  heard  it  in  the  noise  of  the  wheels  and  in 
the  sigh  of  the  wind.  "Is  he  not  right,"  she 
asked  herself.  "What  is  love  but  the  ticket  of 
the  lottery  of  marriage.  The  prize  great,  the 
price  at  first  small  then  at  last  greater  until 
finally  disastrous  failure,  if  no  winning  is  made? 
Love  is  but  a  game  of  chance  and  like  all  games 
it  is  fascinating.  If  once  we  lose,  we  play  on  to 
win  back  what  we  have  lost.  If  we  win  a  little 
at  first,  we  play  on  to  win  more.  .The  time  to 
stop  is  at  its  beginning,  but  we  rush  on  and  chase 
the  ignus  fatus  of  success.  Brother  tramples 
on  brother,  friend  strikes  friend,  neighbor  battles 
with  neighbor,  in  their  mad  rush  like  moths  to- 
wards that  flame  of  success.  We  say  no  and  an 
inward  voice  says  yes,  so  we  battle  with  our- 
selves, the  voices  raise  themselves  in  a  clamorous 
deafening  din,  but  in  the  midst  of  it  all  we  rush 
on  and  some  escape  the  blaze  of  love,  others  pass 
through  it  purged  and  successful,  while  the  most 
fall  and  linger  in  the  agony  of  despair."  "No" 
said  the  thoughts  of  Eugenie.  "Yes,"  said  the 
inward  voice,  then  began  the  battle  and  she 
rushed  on,  while  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  door 
of  her  home  and  she  alighted. 


Madame  Makes  An  Agreement.       77 

"Tomorrow  night?"  asked  Madame,  aroused 
from  her  thoughts. 

"Yes"  answered  Eugenie  meekly,  amidst  tho 
din  of  the  inward  battle.  "Yes"  thought  sho 
"'I  like  the  rest  shall  rush  on  and  if  I  fall  there 
are  many  before  me  who  have  done  the  same." 


78  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

THE  CARDINAL'S  CAMEO. 

Madame  Stilsits'  house,  as  referred  to  before, 
was  the  rendezvous  of  the  upper  class  of  aris- 
tocrary,  where  they  would  assemble  and  pass  the 
time  away  at  gaming  and  rioting.  Many  a 
scandal  had  its  germ  planted  there  and  many  the 
fortunes  that  had  been  lost  and  won  over  the 
tables.  Duels,  the  outcome  of  scandal,  were 
frequent,  suicide  had  its  share,  but  all  would 
be  so  skillfully  covered  and  concealed  that  sel- 
dom the  outside  world  knew  of  them.  Glasses 
would  clink  after  the  games  were  finished. 
Loser  drank  with  winner,  bankrupt  with  million- 
aire, the  one  perhaps  moody,  silent  and  melan- 
choly, the  other  joyous,  happy  and  content. 

Princes,  Barons,  Dukes,  men  and  women  of 
rank  assembled  here  and  shuffled  the  paste- 
boards, played  the  colors,  or  rolled  the  dice  and 
either  won  or  lost.  Generals,  marshals,  captains, 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  79 

all  frequented  this  place  and  gossip  and  rumor 
.held  high  sway.  No  one  or  no  action  was  let 
pass  by  without  some  remark.  The  latest  topic 
and  it  had  the  honor  of  having  more  discussion 
than  any  since  the  Emperor's  marriage,  was  the 
appearance  of  the  Prince  de  Tristesse,  the 
strange  occupant  of  the  mysterious  "Alhambra" 
and  on  this  evening  all  were  in  expectation,  for 
it  was  announced  that  he  would  appear.  The 
gamesters  lacked  interest  in  the  play  and  the 
betting  was  light ;  all  had  their  eyes  on  the  door 
when  any  one  was  announced.  Madame  de 
Ebersville  had  not  yet  begun  to  play  but  sat 
nervously  picking  at  her  fan,  for  it  was  by  her 
he  was  to  be  introduced.  M.  le  Baron  was  not 
there  but  Eugenie  was  by  her  side,  closely 
watching  the  curtains  of  the  doorway,  but  Ma- 
dame was  too  much  engrossed  in  hei  own 
thoughts  to  notice  the  battle  which  Engenie  was 
waging  in  her  heart. 

At  last  there  was  a  rumble  of  wheels  outside 
as  a  carriage  drove  up  the  road  leading  to  the 
entrance  and  a  short  time  after,  the  porter  at 
the  door,  called  out  "Le  Prince  de  Tristesse"  and 
all  arose,  something  which  had  never  happened 
before.  Madame  advanced  to  the  door-way  as 


8o  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  curtains  were  drawn  aside  and  the  prince 
dressed  in  faultless  black,  advanced  and  extended 
his  hand  to  her. 

"I  hope  that  I  am  not  late"  he  said  in  his 
musical  voice. 

"  'It  is  never  late  at  Madame  Stilsits"  is  our 
motto  Monsieur,  but  come  and  I  shall  introduce 

you." 

He  was  then  introduced  to  the  company  and 
created  quite  a  sensation  by  his  ready  wit  and 
his  acquaintance  and  reference  to  each  one's 
title  and  bits  of  history.  Eugenie  was  seated  at 
the  end  of  the  room  nervously  playing  with  her 
fan,  her  large  gray  eyes  following  the  prince 
about  the  room.  "No"  echoed  the  inward 
voice  but  it  was  drowned  out  by  the  shrill  "yes" 
which  was  sounding  in  her  mind.  The  battle 
was  at  its  height.  The  prince  was  now  ap- 
proaching in  her  direction. 

"Ah  Madamoiselle  you  have  come,  I  am  de- 
lighted with  my  reception,  such  galantry  and 
beauty  have  seldom  done  me  honor  before." 

"Prince  of  Sadness  as  you  style  yourself  you 
must  be  mistaken,"  said  Madamoiselle,  "for  if 
I  err  not  there  are  all  ranks  and  oftentimes  the 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  81 

best  classes  present  at  your  fancied  court  of 
sadness." 

"You  are  right  in  that  respect,  for  at  that 
court  all  classes  have  their  places.  On  the  right 
hand  is  a  pauper  who  looks  across  at  the  king  or 
queen  on  the  left  and  amidst  sighs  says;  "I  am 
not  happy,  why  am  I  not  like  him,  he  has  luxury, 
wealth  and  plenty,"  while  the  nobility  on  their 
part  look  over  and  say,  "Look  at  that  pauper,  no 
wealth  to  worry  him,  no  diplomatic  schemes  to 
follow,  look  at  his  healthy  body  and  mind;  why 
am  I  not  like  him?"  There  the  disappointed  fall 
with  their  burden  and  the  unhappy  sink  beneath 
its  weight  and  ask  for  rest.  Have  you  ever 
stopped  to  think  how  few  times  in  the  seventy 
years,  that  are  allotted  to  man,  that  he  can  say 
'now  I  am  truly  happy?'  The  young  wish  to 
have  the  experience  of  years  upon  them  and  old 
age  prays  and  sighs  for  the  buoyant  grace  and 
steps  of  his  youth."* 

"But  what  consolation  does  the  Prince  of  Sad- 
ness give  these  poor  wretches  who  can  find  no 
rest?"  asked  Eugenie. 

"None,  none  at  all,  and  were  I  to  give  con- 
solation and  advice  they  would  not  follow  it, 


82  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

they  would  say  'my  malady  is  incurable,  I  am 
doomed  and  must  submit  to  its  ravings.'  ' 

"Come  come"  said  Madame  "this  is  not  the 
time  or  place  to  preach  a  sermon." 

"True  we  must  game.  Eugenie  do  you  not 
play?" 

"No  I  find  more  pleasure  by  looking  on." 

"That  is  right,  watch  the  fire  but  do  not  step 
too  closely  or  pick  up  the  glowing  coal  to  "view 
its  beauty  or  try  to  solve  its  mystery.  Then  it 
will  not  harm  you,  but  take  care  do  not  look  at 
it  too  much  or  too  long,  lest  it  dazzle  and  blind 
your  eyes.  But  Madame  a  word  with  you  ere 
we  go  to  the  tables"  and  he  and  Madame  walked 
arm  in  arm  towards  the  other  room. 

"You  have  money?"  he  asked. 

"Some." 

"How  much?" 

"About  6,000  francs. 

"That  will  do.  Stake  high  every  other  time 
I  deal,  take  no  chances  at  other  times." 

They  entered  the  room  and  accepted  places 
which  brought  them  directly  opposite.  The 
deal  was  to  the  Prince's  right  two  players,  the 
cards  were  dealt,  the  bets  were  made  and  the 
player  next  to  him  won.  His  turn  came  to  deal 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  83 

but  the  betting  was  light  and  only  small  sums 
were  staked.  Next  the  prince  dealt.  A  player 
several  seats  to  his  left  drew  a  king,  that 
amounted  to  seven  points,  the  man  next  to  him 
also  drew  a  king  and  both  bet  high.  The  banker 
who  was  of  course  the  prince  bet  double  the 
amount.  It  was  becoming  interesting.  Neither 
of  the  two  opponents  drew  cards  while  the  prince 
did.  Then  came  the  decision,  both  opponents 
had  seven  points,  the  card  the  prince  drew  made 
his  seven  and  a  half  and  he  won.  So  the  game 
progressed  and  so  it  came  his  deal  again.  Ma- 
dame staked  high  against  three  opponents  and 
won  a  nice  sum.  The  game  was  steadily  increas- 
ing in  interest,  both  Madame  and  the  prince 
waging  small  sums,  when  any  one  else  dealt. 

Once  Madame  was  given  a  king  amounting  to 
seven.  She  staked  high  and  was  met  by  several 
other  players.  She  drew  no  cards  the  second 
deal  and  some  one  held  seven  and  a  half  so 
consequently  she  lost.  The  prince's  eyes  flashed 
fire  as  his  met  her's  and  she  understood.  After 
that  she  followed  his  instructions  more  explicitly 
and  when  the  game  was  finished  she  had  won  a 
good  round  sum. 

Then  they  wandered  back  to  the  ante  chamber 


84  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

and  on  the  way  Madame  said  "yon  are  indeed 
strange,  prince  bnt  I  feel  that  I  have  done 
wrongly." 

"Why,  may  I  ask." 

"Well  to  play." 

"Has  Madame  never  played  before?" 

"Yes  er— bnt— " 

"You  are  wondering  how  you  came  to  win 
every  time  I  dealt?" 

"To  be  frank  yes." 

"The  Prince  of  Sadness  has  magic  in  his 
touch.  Did  the  players  distrust  me?  No,  then 
why  should  you?" 

"Well  enough  of  this  but  you  are  too  kind 
to  me." 

"Not  at  all,  you  shall  amply  repay  me.  The 
Emperor  is  now  moving  on  to  Russia." 

"How  do  you  know." 

"Details  are  too  long.  But  what  I  want  to 
know  is  for  what  reason.  You  can  learn  the 
reason  for  me  can  you  not?" 

"I  am  a  spy." 

"No  Madame  only  a  debtor  paying  a  debt." 

"Well  then  if  I  can  find  out  you  shall  know 
tomorrow  night.  But  where?" 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  85 

"Here.  You  have  not  jet  met  all  your  hus- 
band's reverses,  we  shall  play  some  more." 

The  news  of  Madame's  winnings  had  come  to 
the  ears  of  her  husband  and  as  answer  to  his 
questions  she  turned  over  the  sum  to  him. 
Well,  at  this  stage  of  his  financial  state  it  made 
little  difference  where  the  money  came  from  and 
besides  it  was  considered  no  wrong  to  gamble 
and  Madame  attributed  her  winnings  to  a  phe- 
nomenal run  of  luck.  Although  in  her  own 
mind  she  had  wished  herself  out  of  the  bargain 
a  thousand  times,  for  she  saw  the  prince's  hold 
becoming  tighter  upon  her,  but  now  that  she 
had  once  started  she  must  make  the  best  of  it. 
The  renewal  had  been  given,  thanks  to  the 
prince's  presence  in  the  box  and  the  plan  of  the 
gift  to  the  prima  donna. 

The  next  night  she  and  Eugenie  were  again 
at  Madame  Stilsits  anxiously  waiting  for  the 
prince  to  come.  She  had  spent  the  greater  part 
of  the  afternoon  with  the  Empress  and  had 
gained  the  information  she  desired.  The  in- 
ward voice  of  Eugenie  had  been  almost  silenced 
and  she  had  gradually  surrendered  to  the  malady 
that  was  preying  on  her  heart. 

At  last  the  prince  came.     As  he  entered  the 


86  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

room  his  eyes  met  with  those  of  a  certain  captain 
who  was  leaning  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  convers- 
ing with  the  wife  of  his  general.  The  prince's 
face  brightened  while  that  of  the  captain's  be- 
came clouded  as  if  some  uncertainty  of  convic- 
tion still  remained  in  his  mind  as  to  whether  he 
had  seen  the  prince's  face  before.  The  prince 
then  approached  Madame  and  Eugenie  and  ex- 
tended to  them  his  greeting.  The  captain  saun- 
tered closer  and  his  eyes  seemed  never  to  leave 
the  prince's  face.  The  subject  on  which  Ma- 
dame and  Eugenie  had  been  conversing  was 
jewelry  and  as  the  prince  approached  Madame 
said,  "we  have  just  been  trying  to  decide  whether 
or  not  my  theory  of  that  one  can  tell  one's  dis- 
position by  the  jewelry  one  wears,  is  true  or  not." 

"Pray  explain  yourself  Madame  and  let  me 
be  your  judge." 

"Well  I  claim  that  one  can  read  the  tempera- 
ment and  disposition  of  a  person  by  the  jewelry 
or  the  kind  of  jewelry  one  most  admires.  For 
instance  take  our  hostess,  she  is  fond  of  opals, 
they  flash  fire,  are  brilliant,  mysterious  and  gay ; 
is  she  not  all  of  that?  Then,  Eugenie  here,  her 
favorite  jewels  are  rubies  and  pearls,  they  are 
so  deep  and  burning  in  one  respect,  but  do  not 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  87 

give  out  any  fire,  and  pearls  are  always  the  sig- 
nificant of  tears,  silent  and  lasting.  While  you 
prince  wear  no  jewelry  whatever  that  I  have 
noticed,  excepting-  that  cameo  on  the  little  finger. 
It  is  the  head  of  a  warrior,  and  from  it  I  should 
read  you  as  reserved,  melancholy,  and  by  the 
figure  still  a  lover  of  a  fair  fight." 

"Madame  has  a  good  theory  and  in  most  cases 
it  holds  good.  As  for  you  admiring  this  cameo, 
you  are  not  the  first  to  do  so.  Kings,  emperors, 
queens  and  nobles  of  all  rank  have  tried  to  pur- 
chase it  or  to  solve  its  secret.  There  is  also  a 
history  connected  with  it  that  makes  it  doubly 
valuable. 

One  day  there  came  to  the  shop  of  an  alchem- 
ist, here  in  the  heart  of  your  beautiful  city,  a 
man  of  ordinary  dress  and  requested  of  the  chem- 
ist that  he  form  a  drug  that  would  be  deadly 
poison,  but  in  such  a  form  that  it  would,  before 
being  dissolved,  appear  as  a  gem,  and  secondly, 
that  there  should  be  no  traces  of  poison  left  in 
the  stomach  or  blood  of  the  victim."  The  man 
offered  a  vast  reward  and  the  chemist  devoted  all 
his  time  to  this  one  end.  Day  and  night  he 
labored  without  success  and  one  midnight,  after 
failure  after  failure,  as  he  was  despairing  and  had 


88  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

almost  decided  to  take  the  virus  he  had  just 
prepared  from  many  acids  and  poisons,  a  drop 
from  a  retort  over  the  table  fell  into  the  paste 
he  was  mixing.  Out  of  despair  he  tried  the  new 
mixture  on  some  animals  which  he  kept  for  that 
purpose  and  to  his  astonishment  it  was  the  very 
poison  he  had  sought  for  so  long.  But  as  that, 
one  drop,  which  completed  his  compound  had 
fallen  from  one  or  perhaps  several  of  the  retorts, 
above  the  table,  he  knew  not  its  composition, 
but  the  poison  was  his.  He  then  moulded  it 
into  a  cameo  and  when  the  man  came  again  it 
was  given  to  him  for  a  vast  sum  after  a  trial  of 
its  strength.  The  chemist  never  knew  the  iden- 
tity of  the  man  to  whom  he  had  sold  the  poison- 
ous ring.  But  some  years  later,  the  ring  was 
found  on  the  hand  of  the  dead  statesman  and 
priest,  who  had  lived  through  one  whole  intri- 
gue and  plot,  the  Cardinal  Armond  de  Richelieu. 
Several  years  ago  it  came  into  my  possession  and 
I  have  worn  it  ever  since,  more  as  a  curiosity 
than  a  precaution." 

"That  is  indeed  strange,  but  how  does  it 
work,''  asked  Madame. 

"By  a  spring  here  at  the  side  the  set  is  forced 
from  its  place.  But  come  I  see  they  are  form- 
ing a  game." 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  89 

The  captain  had  advanced  to  inform  them 
that  they  were  making  a  set  to  play. 

"Allow  me"  said  Madame  "to  introduce  to 
you,  prince,  the  Captain  Moran  of  Napoleon's 
own  guard." 

"We  have  met  before,  have  we  not,  but  under 
a  different  name?"  asked  the  captain  fastening 
his  eyes  firmly  on  those  of  the  prince,  but  no 
change  was  perceptible  as  the  prince  answered. 

"Perhaps,  but  at  any  rate  if  an  old  acquaint- 
ance I  am  pleased  to  renew  it,  and  if  new,  I  am 
happy  to  begin  it"  and  they  went  on  to  the 
tables  while  the  prince  murmured  to  himself: 
"sacre,  I  did  not  think  he  would  remember 
Mario;  he  is  still  uncertain." 

All  began  gaming  and  the  bets  that  night  were 
unusually  large.  The  prince  was  quiet  and 
several  times  he  seemed  to  awaken  from  reveries 
when  addressed.  What  plan  was  he  now  re- 
volving in  his  mind?  The  captain  lost  steadily 
when  the  prince  dealt  and  Madame  won  con- 
tinually. The  captain's  loss  was  already  counted 
by  the  thousand  francs,  while  Madame's  gain 
was  that  and  far  more  and  "when  the  game 
stopped,,  the  captain  was  moody  and  showed  his 
heavy  "loss,  for  in  fact  he  was  bankrupt  and 


90  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

many  others  at  the  table  were  heavy  losers,  the 
prince  losing  about  a  thousand  francs  and  Ma- 
dame's  winnings  were  something  unheard  of 
before  at  Madame  Stilsits'. 

When  they  stopped  gaming  they  grouped 
about  in  small  companies  and  refreshments  were 
served.  Madame  did  not  seem  joyous  over  her 
winnings  and  the  captain  had  almost  ceased  to 
talk  and  sat  brooding.  The  wine  was  passed 
and  it  so  happened,  that  there  were  not  enough 
glasses  by  one,  on  the  tray  which  the  waiter  had 
brought  for  the  group  where  the  prince  and  the 
captain  sat,  and  it  also  happened,  that  it  was  the 
captain  who  was  not  served.  Madame  was  look- 
ing directly  at  the  prince,  she  saw  the  lines  in 
his  face  set  firm,  the  steely  glitter  in  his  eye  was 
brighter  than  usual.  "What  was  he  doing?  She 
saw  the  cameo  slip  from  its  setting  in  the  ring 
and  fall  lightly  into  the  blood  red  wine.  There 
was  but  one  bubble  and  the  deadly  poison  was 
dissolved. 

"What  is  he  going  to  do"  thought  she  spell- 
bound. 

"Here  captain,  heavy  losers  should  drown 
their  sorrows  first."  Madame  was  in  agony,  it 
was  going  too  far  she  would  cry  out  and  de- 


The  Cardinal's  Cameo.  91 

nounce  him.  No  she  could  not  do  that.  That 
would  only  be  denouncing  herself.  She  must 
calmly  sit  by  and  see  that  man  poisoned. 

"No,  I  shall  be  served  soon"  Madame  heard, 
as  in  a  dream  the  captain  say.  But  the  prince 
had  no  turning  back  now. 

"I  deem  it  an  honor,  for  who  serves  Napoleon 
is  with  me  an  equal  and  a  compatriot,  even  if  I 
do  not  take  the  field  as  you  do.  Thereby  do  me 
the  honor  accept  it  and  I  will  offer  a  toast. 

Here's  to  the  bowl  of  nectar  sweet 

Around  which  again,  old  friendships  meet. 

Heap  high  its  rim  with  laurel  leaf 

And  though  our  meeting  here  be  brief, 

This  hour's  remembrance  shall  linger  still, 

As  the  ivy  clings  to  the  mouldering  mill. 

And  though  our  joy  and  wassail  be  not  long 

For  what  is  life  but  a  short  sad  song; 

Its  notes  now  shrill  and  loud  now  but  a  sad  refrain; 

Let's  bump,  for  who  knows  when  we  will  meet  again. 

Then  think  not  of  the  morrow's  dawn  or  set, 

We're  glad  to  meet  again  and  part  with  a  regret." 

Without  suspicion  the  captain  accepted  the 
;lass  just  as  the  servant  brought  one  to  the 
prince.  Madame  could  not  drink  her's,  there 
was  an  awful  lump  in  her  throat  and  her  mind 
was  whirling.  The  captain  raised  the  glass  to 


92  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

liis  lips,  a  few  inarticulate  cries  broke  from 
Madame  and  she  sank  unconscious  to  the  floor 
and  in  so  doing  knocked  the  glass  from  the  cap- 
tain's hand  and  shattered  it  on  the  floor.  Stim- 
ulants were  supplied  and  Madame  gradually 
came  to,  looking  about  her  with  a  wild  stare.  The 
prince  came  forward  and  leaning  on  his  and 
Eugenie's  arms  they  led  her  to  the  carriage  and 
the  prince  accompanied  them  on  their  journey 
home  ordering  his  own  vehicle  to  follow. 


Madame  Speculates.  93 


CHAPTER  YH. 

MADAME     SPECULATES. 

M  adame's  nerves  had  received  a  severe  shock 
but  it  gradually  wore  away.  It  all  seemed  to 
her  like  some  horrible  dream,  for  there  beside 
her  in  the  carriage  was  the  prince,  so  attentive 
and  soothing  her  with  pleasing  words.  She 
could  hardly  believe  what  had  happened  and  as 
if  to  convince  herself,  she  glanced  at  the  prince's 
hand;  which  in  the  excitement  of  assisting  her 
to  the  coach  he  had  neglected  to  glove.  Sure 
enough  there  was  the  ring  without  its  cameo 
set.  Again  that  horrible  scene  rushed  before 
her  eyes. 

"Prince  your  cameo  is  missing,"  she  meekly 
said  in  an  undertone  for  her  head  was  resting 
on  his  shoulder  and  the  noise  of  the  wheels  made 
her  voice  inaudible  to  Eugenie. 

"Jewelry  like  poisons  are  sometimes  worth- 
less. But  how  is  Madame  now?" 


94  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Much  better.     The  captain  is  he  well?" 

"Perfectly,  you  are  a  good  doctor."  This  was 
all  the  reference  made  to  the  affair. 

"Madame  has  made  a  big  winning  tonight. 
But  the  debts  are  not  yet  paid." 

"Prince,  I  shall  never  again  enter  Madame 
Stilsits." 

"That  is  not  necessary.  Madame  will  do  well 
by  buying  silks  tomorrow.  Buy  at  nine  in  the 
morning  as  much  as  you  have  won  tonight  and 
sell  at  two  in  the  afternoon." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  you  should  buy  all  the  silks  avail- 
able and  you  can  buy  much  for  now  they  are 
Very  low,  but  sell  promptly  at  two  in  the  after- 
noon at  the  highest  price.  But  the  reason  of 
Napoleon's  visit  into  Russia,  what  does  he 
mean?" 

"I  visited  the  Empress  this  afternoon." 

"Yes." 

"She  wondered  at  my  strange  acquaintance  at 
the  "Alhambra." 

"I  knew  that." 

So  the  plot  was  thickening.  Madame  could 
not  now  play  him  false  for  she  saw  by  his  last 
remark  that  there  must  be  another  source  from 


Madame  Speculates.  95 

which  he  also  gained  information,  probably  a 
spy  watching  a  spy. 

"In  the  course  of  the  conversation  I  learned 
that  Napoleon's  main  reason  was  to  conquer 
Alexander  because" — 

"He  loves  Josephine  and  Napoleon  is  jealous 
even  with  his  new  love." 

"I  also  learned  that  he  shall  march  on  and 
take  all  the  cities,  ending  with  Moscow,  which 
will  place  the  entire  country  in  his  power." 

Then  a  silence. 

"I  may  soon  leave  Paris." 

"So  soon?"  came  to  Eugenie's  ears  as  the 
horses  had  slackened  into  a  walk.  She  did  not 
know  that  they  had  been  conversing. 

"I  have  business  somewhere  else." 

"And  in  the  meantime?" 

"If  you  gain  news  of  any  movements,  a  mes- 
sage to  the  "Alhambra  will  reach  me,"  pursued 
the  two  not  noticing  that  the  brougham  did  not 
make  enough  noise  to  completely  drown  their 
voices. 

A  suspicion  was  dawning  upon  Eugenie's 
mind.  Either  Madame  was  faithless  to  her  hus- 
band, an  old  ill-humored  man  or  there  may  be 
something  deeper.  "No,  it  could  not  be  either," 


96  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

she  thought  "Madame  is  the  soul  of  honor 
and  the  prince  is  the  same."  The  inward  voice 
could  not  be  heard.  Eugenie  was  rushing  on  at 
a  tremendous  rate  and  even  if  she  thought,  that 
she  was  mistaken  nevertheless  the  suspicion  re- 
mained. "He  is  going  away?  Where?  To 
some  mistress?"  She  had  never  thought  of  that 
before.  Her  love  had  grown  so  strong  for  him 
that  she  had  not  even  given  it  a  thought,  that  he 
might  care  for  some  one  else.  Then  besides  he 
had  never  encouraged  her,  rather  the  opposite. 
"Love  is  but  the  prelude  to  marriage  as  the  first 
act  to  a  tragedy,  shun  the  prelude  and  the  play 
will  cease."  He  posed  as  a  single  man,  but  may 
he  not  even  be  married  for  all  she  knew.  "No, 
he  is  honorable,  it  cannot  be,  but  still  he  is  going 
away.  Where  ?"  Suspicion,  to  lovers  is  the  rack 
of  the  inquisition  of  love  and  it  tortured  and  rent 
the  fibers  of  her  brain  until  she  felt  that  she 
would  go  mad.  The  carriage  stopped  at  Ma- 
dame's  and  they  entered  the  house  after  making 
an  engagement  with  the  prince. 

The  next  morning,  through  her  lawyer,  a  poor 
struggling  honest  young  man,  who  had  inces- 
santly tried  to  get  into  the  good  graces  of  Eu- 
genie's favor  and  Madame  was  not  at  all  adverse 


Madame  Speculates.  97 

to  this,  but  had  so  far  failed  completely,  bought 
up  all  the  available  silks  and  that  was  much,  for 
the  market  was  stocked  with  silks  and  the  price 
was  at  a  fabuously  low  ebb.  He  went  about 
it  in  a  quiet  way  and  in  an  hour  had  bought  over 
thirty  thousand  francs  worth  of  the  fabric,  when 
suddenly  there  was  a  rush. 

The  price  of  silks  immediately  jumped  to 
twice  its  former  station,  then  three  times  as 
much  and  steadily  advanced.  He  at  first  won- 
dered at  Madame's  strange  actions  but  he  was 
told  with  such  force  to  buy  all  the  available  silks, 
as  if  she  doubted  if  he  wrould  explicitly  follow 
her  dictates,  for  he  had  tried  to  dissuade  her 
when  she  informed  him  of  his  mission.  Know- 
ing his  kindly  feeling  towards  her,  she  thought 
that  he  may  only  invest  a  small  amount  in  order, 
as  he  thought,  to  save  the  rest  for  her.  But  now 
that  the  order's  were  so  forcibly  impressed  upon 
his  mind,  he  went  ahead  as  she  had  bid  him,  but 
not  without  hesitancy. 

Madame  did  not  for  one  moment  mistrust  the 
prince's  counsel,  for  she  felt  that  he  had  dealt 
squarely  with  her  and  would  not  betray  so  valu- 
able a  tool.  Steadily  the  price  of  silks  went  up. 
Jean  congratulated  himself  that  he  had  invested 


98  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  whole  sum  and  had  not  followed  his  first  im- 
pulse. At  noon  the  stock  suddenly  came  to  a 
standstill  and  he  drove  pell  mell  to  Madame. 

"Madame,"  he  shouted  as  he  rushed  into  the 
house,  "the  stock  is  at  a  stand.  Your  instruc- 
tions were  not  to  sell  until  two  precisely.  My 
advice  is  to  sell  without  delay."  Madame  was 
wavering. 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  best?"  she  half  asked 
herself.  Then  the  remembrance  of  the  conver- 
sation with  the  prince  came  back  to  her  and  she 
was  again  firm.  "No,  wait  until  two.  Not  a 
moment  sooner." 

"Madame  has  heard  my  advice;  you  run  your 
own  risk." 

"It  is  my  own  money  invested  and  if  I  lose, 
it  is  my  own  money  lost,  you  will  get  your  fee 
the  same." 

"Oh  Madame  you  have  grossly  misjudged 
me.  It  was  not  for  my  fee  that  I  thought,  it  was 

only  your  own  welfare  and  that  of "  he 

hesitated. 

"Of  Eugenie"  Madame  finished.  Pardon 
me,  my  words  were  hasty  and  as  far  as  Eugenie 
is  concerned,  you  know  how  my  feelings  are 
toward  you,  but  it  seems  of  no  avail." 

"Not  until  then?" 


Madame  Speculates.  99 

"Not  until  two." 

"But  if  the  stock  begins  to  decline." 

"Not  until  two." 

He  came  back  and  on  the  way  he  met  a  friend 
who  rushed  up  to  him  exclaiming:  "Silks  are 
still  going  up,  up,  up,  it  seems  as  though  they 
will  never  stop,  why,  the  paper  published  an 
account  this  morning,  directly  after  you  bought 
the  silks,  that  Le  Prince  de  Tristesse  had  invested 
a  fortune  and  that  he  had  received  word  from  a 
reliable  source,  that  silks  would  rise  higher  than 
they  had  ever  before.  A  reporter  had  seen  the 
letter  on  the  prince's  desk  with  his  own  eyes." 

Higher  and  higher  the  price  arose  until  by  two 
o'clock  they  had  reached  a  stage  unheard  of  be- 
fore. Buyers  were  plentiful,  but  sellers  few. 
Those  who  had  stock  would  not  sell.  Precisely 
at  two,  Jean  sold  the  entire  amount  and  not  a 
moment  too  soon,  for  the  silks  began  to  decline 
as  speadily  as  they  had  risen,  until  at  midnight 
they  were  back  again  to  their  first  price,  or  very 
near  it.  Madame  had  gained  a  fortune,  which 
far  exceeded  the  one  her  husband  had  lost  on 
the  same  article.  Those  who  did  not  sell,  lost 
and  those  who  did  not  buy  early  in  the  day,  lost 
vast  amounts  of  money. 


ioo  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

That  evening  Madame,  Engenie  and  a  gather- 
ing of  friends  assembled  at  the  "Alhambra"  and 
viewed  again  its  beauties  and  its  mysteries.  The 
prince  met  Madame  with  a  smile,  "You  made  a 
fortune  this  morning  did  you  not?" 

"Yes  thanks  to  your  advice.  But  how  did 
you  know  all  beforehand?" 

"Nothing  was  easier  it  is  very  simple.  The 
people  are  interested  it  seems,  intensely  inter- 
ested in  Le  Prince  de  Tristesse,  is  it  not  so?" 

"They  are." 

"Because  I  am  rich,  strange  and  mysterious." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  am  daily  beset  by  reporters  and  tale- 
bearers until  I  have  closed  my  doors  against 
them.  Well  yesterday  one  visited  me,  a  letter 
was  on  my  desk,  presumably  addressed  to  me, 
telling  me  to  buy  all  silk  possible  as  there  would 
be  a  great  jump  in  the  price.  Reporters'  eyes 
are  for  their  papers,  this  one  saw  the  dispatch, 
just  what  I  wanted,  while  I  of  course  was  oc- 
cupied. He  read  it,  his  eyes  bulged,  he  fidgeted 
in  his  chair  to  get  away.  Finally  I  gave  him 
my  attention,  then  seeing  the  dispatch,  I  quickly 
tore  it  into  fragments  as  though  it  were  for  no 
one  but  myself  to  see.  Then  I  kept  him  occu- 


Madame  Speculates.  101 

pied  long  enough  until  I  was  certain  that  he 
would  have  no  time  to  invest  what  little  money 
he  might  have  saved.  And  then  it  was  all  over. 
His  paper  gave  an  account  how  the  Prince  de 
Tristesse  had  received  a  dispatch,  then  there  was 
a  rush  for  the  stock  with  the  result.  But  come, 
let  us  mingle  with  the  crowd,  the  next  dance  is 
about  to  begin  and  I  must  find  Engenie. 


IO2  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTEE  vrn. 

LOVE  OR  DUTY. 

The  "Alhambra"  was  ablaze  with  light,  its 
chandeliers  were  sparkling  and  glittering  and 
the  sweet  strains  of  music  swelled  and  died 
throughout  the  grand  reception  room  of  pure 
white  marble.  The  musical  tinkle  of  the  foun- 
tain echoed  through  the  hall  a  pleasant  accom- 
paniment. Gracefully  the  dancers  swayed  and 
glided  in  perfect  rythm  with  the  music  of  the 
hidden  orchestra.  Eugenie,  leaning  lightly  on 
the  prince's  arm,  entered  the  hall  and  prepared 
to  dance. 

The  conversation  of  the  night  before  between 
Madame  and  the  prince  was  still  ringing  in  her 
ears  and  poisoning  her  brain  with  suspicion. 
"Would  some  one  else  be  leaning  on  his  arm  to- 
morrow night,  some  one  he  loved  dearly?"  she 
asked  herself,  "some  one  he  did  not  dissuade 
from  loving  him,  but  rather  encouraged?"  For 


Love  or  Duty.  103 

some  reason  she  was  in  a  mood  for  melancholy. 
"Was  it  because  he  was  going  away,  or  was  it 
that  she  might  never  see  him  again?"  she  won-* 
dered. 

That  music,  that  intoxicating  swell  of  har- 
mony, now  rising  and  thundering  like  a  turbu- 
lent battle,  then  sinking  to  a  low  mournful  ca- 
dence like  the  pleading  of  a  soul  in  agony.  Oh 
the  tears  were  ready  to  start  at  any  moment. 
What  a  power  this  man  had  to  conjure  up  her 
feelings  of  love  without  the  least  encouragement, 
but  rather  by  its  discouragement.  Would  he 
not  breathe  one  word  of  love,  one  embrace,  one 
glance,  to  say  that  "It  is  not  another  I  go  to  see ; 
it  is  duty  that  calls  me  hence."  No,  not  a  word, 
nor  a  glance,  nor  a  sigh.  Onward  they  floated 
as  a  boat  glides  in  silence  over  the  mirror-like 
surface  of  the  silent  lake,  giving  not  the  least 
ripple  to  warn  its  dreamers  of  the  depth  they 
were  gliding  to.  She  could  not  believe  it  was 
another  he  was  going  to,  it  could  not  be.  To- 
night she  must  know.  That  feeling  of  jealousy 
and  love  was  driving  her  on.  But  how  was  she 
to  find  out? 

"]\Iadamoiselle  is  quiet." 

"Monsieur  is  going  to  leave?" 


IO4  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Late  tonight." 
"You  will  come  again?" 
"Perhaps,  no  one  can  tell  his  fate." 
"Monsieur  you  are  always  gloomy." 
Silence.     The    music    ceased.     Eugenie    ex- 
cused herself,  the  tears  were  ready  to  start  at 
any  time   she   could  not  trust  herself  longer. 
"He  was  going  away  to  some  one  else."     Hurry- 
ing along  the  hall,  choking  back  her  sobs,  seek- 
ing some  place  to  give  free  vent  to  her  feelings, 
she  sought  the  secluded  spot  of  the  library  and 
throwing  herself  into  the  great  chair  before  the 
desk,  she  laid  her  head  upon  her  arms  and  her 
whole  frame  shook  with  anguish.     The  hot  tears 
sprang  from  her  eyes  upon  her  bare  arms,  her 
hand  clutched  a  bundle  of  papers  as  if  for  sup- 
port. 

Slowly  the  storm  of  anguish  began  to  pass 
away.  Her  weakness  turned  to  firmness. 

"Why  should  I  love  this  man  ?"  she  asked  her- 
self. "I  have  only  known  him  for  a  short  space 
of  time,  let  him  go  to  his  mistress'  embraces. 
Let  him  shower  her  mouth  with  his  kisses;  I 
shall  not  show  the  weakness  of  my  sex,  I  can- 
not, no  I  will  not  confess  to  a  soul  my  feelings. 
In  the  whirlpool  of  my  love  I  shall  sink  without 


Love  or  Duty.  105 

a  cry  for  mercy  upon  my  lips,  or  reach  out  a 
hand  for  assistance.  I  shall  sink  it  deep  in  my 
heart  and  bury  it  there,  then  no  one  can — " 

The  room  was  dimly  lighted,  her  eyes  had 
fallen  upon  the  papers  which  she  had  by  chance 
held  in  her  hand,  which  she  had  grasped  with 
the  frenzy  of  her  anguish.  The  music  floated 
upon  her  ears  like  a  strange  weird  accompani- 
ment to  her  recital.  Slowly  her  hand  relaxed  its 
grasp,  a  pallor  over-spread  her  face,  for  she  rec- 
ognized the  seal  of  the  exiled  king.  By  the  dim 
light  she  read:  "Go  at  once  to  Russia.  Na- 
poleon is  pressing  on"  then  the  seal. 

The  words  were  few  but  she  interpreted  their 
meaning.  Suddenly  there  came  over  her  a 
strange  feeling,  from  a  chill  it  turned  to  burning 
hot,  it  seemed  as  though  the  penetrating  glance 
oi  a  pair  of  eyes  were  upon  her;  the  door  was  at 
her  back,  she  arose  and  there  stood  the  prince,  a 
smile  upon  his  beautiful  face.  The  paper  fell 
from  her  hand  and  fluttered  to  the  floor.  She 
was  as  if  pinioned  to  the  spot  whereon  she  stood. 
The  conversation  of  the  night  before  flashed 
through  her  mind.  Madame  was  then  also  a 
spy.  The  silence  was  awkward ;  finally  the  voice 
of  the  prince,  low,  firm  and  musical  sounded  in 
the  room. 


io6  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Madamoiselle  understands  the  paper  she  has 
read?"  The  answer  was  a  nod. 

"Madamoiselle  wondered  at  my  strange  de- 
parture. She  knows  now  why?" 

Again  a  nod.     Then  she  spoke. 

"You  are  a  spy." 

"A  spy  must  never  acknowledge  it,  even  if 
it  is  true." 

"It  is  then  duty  that  calls  you  away?" 

"Yes  Madamoiselle." 

"I  am  a  loyal  subject  to  Napoleon,  one  cry 
would  place  you  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities." 

"I  am  at  your  mercy"  said  he  calmly. 

Then  silence. 

"Disclosure  would  mean — ?" 

"Death  to  me." 

There  was  an  awful  struggle  in  her  mind. 
It  was  the  old  battle  between  love  and  duty. 

"This  is  the  only  proof  to  compromise  you?" 

"Here.     Yes."  " 

Slowly  she  stooped  and  hesitatingly  picked  up 
the  scrap  of  paper  which  lay  between  them. 
Like  a  statue  she  stood  for  a  moment,  then  slowly 
she  raised  the  paper,  until  it  reached  the  flame 
of  light  and  a  few  charred  crisps  fell  at  her  feet. 
"Monsieur  has  his  freedom.  Once  I  give  it  but 


Love  or  Duty.  107 

once  only,  and  if  it  ever  so  happens  that  I  should 
be  in  such  a  position  again,  I  would  be  forced 
to  act  differently." 

"The  cause  Mademoiselle,  I  cannot  under- 
stand?" 

"Never  mind  the  cause,  the  action  is  enough. 
Call  it  weakness,  call  it  mercy,  they  are  often- 
times the  same.  But  by  this  action,  judge  me 
not  as  you  would  judge  Madame.  She  may  be 
your  spy  but  I  am  not." 

"Madamoiselle  has  my  deepest  gratitude. 
The  workings  and  caprices  of  fate  we  know  not. 
I  leave  tonight,  perhaps  never  to  return  again. 
A  spy's  life  is  not  his  own.  It  may  be  his  king's, 
it  may  be  his  country's,  mine  is  neither.  It  be- 
longs to  that  passion  which  drives  one  on  and  on, 
until  he  either  accomplishes  his  end  or  falls  in 
the  attempt.  Revenge,  revenge,  strong,  burn- 
ing, glowing  runs  in  my  veins  and  forces  me  on- 
ward. Napoleon's  ambition  is  favor,  wealth  and 
greatness.  I  like  a  vampire  will  fasten  my 
fangs  upon  it  and  suck  its  strength  away,  or  die 
in  the  attempt.  To  die?  What  is  it,  but  the 
cessation  of  pain  and  passion.  Enough  Madam- 
oiselle the  night  grows  late  and  ere  the  morn  I 
shall  be  on  my  way  to  accomplish  my  end  and 


io8  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

should  we  never  meet  again,  place  love  in 
shackles  of  forgetfulness  and  let  honor  be  your 
only  shrine  of  worship."  He  stooped  and  kissed 
her  hand  quickly,  she  making  no  resistance  but 
stood  as  if  petrified  and  he  was  slowly  with- 
drawing when  she  raised  her  head. 

"Monsieur  has  an  affair  of  honor  at  day- 
break." 

An  expression  of  astonishment  and  embarrass- 
ment overspread  his  face. 

"How  know  you  that?" 

"I  saw  the  exchange  of  cards." 

"Madamoiselle  will  favor  me  by  keeping  this 
affair  quiet.  It  will  soon  be  over  and  I  shall  be 
lying  on  the  ground  or  on  my  way  by  day- 
break." 

Monsieur  Andre  is  a  fine  swordsman." 

"You  fear  for  me?" 

"N — o, — I  do  not  know  your  ability." 

"Trust  it  to  me.  Au  revoir  Madamoiselle, 
au  revoir,  perhaps  forever,"  and  he  was  gone. 


The  Nicked  Rapier.  109 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

THE  NICKED  RAPIER. 

That  night  Madame  de  Ebersville  and  Eu- 
genie rode  home  together.  At  Madame's  door 
Eugenie  made  the  strange  request  to  spend  the 
night  with  her  and  Madame  surmised  correctly 
that  something  was  amiss,  for  all  the  way  home 
Eugenie  had  nervously  played  with  the  trim- 
ming on  her  cape  which  protected  her  bare 
shoulders  from  the  cool  morning  air.  It  was 
almost  two  in  the  morning  when  they  entered 
Madame's  home. 

"Eugenie  what  is  it?  I  can  see  something  is 
worrying  you." 

"Oh  Madame  something  awful,  something  be- 
yond comprehension.  Monsieur  Le  Prince 
fights  Monsieur  Andre  at  sun-rise." 

"Is  that  all  ?  He  is  capable  of  taking  care  of 
himself,  do  you  not  think?  But  how  did  you 
find  this  out?" 


no  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"I  saw  the  cards  exchanged.  But  that  is  not 
all.  I  warned  the  prince  of  Monsieur's  ability 
as  a  swordsman.  I  did  not  see  the  prince  after 
that.  I  was  strolling  down  through  the  conserv- 
atory, when  in  a  secluded  nook,  hidden  by  palms 
I  heard  voices  in  a  guarded  conversation.  It 
was  Monsieur  Andre  and  his  second  the  Le  Cap- 
tain Moran  making  arrangements  for  the  duel." 

"Moran"  he  said  "I  know  it  will  succeed.  He 
must  be  put  out  of  the  way." 

"But  Monsieur  that  is  not  fair,  can  you  not 
kill  him  in  a  fair  duel,  you  who  are  considered 
the  best  swordsman  of  France?  I  do  not  like 
this  work  at  all." 

"I  tell  you  I  do  not  trust  him.  I  have  seen 
him  use  a  foil  at  play  with  Monsieur  Edmonds, 
and  he  uses  it  excellently.  My  plan  will  suc- 
ceed admirably,  a  little  niche  with  a  file  will 
be  made  close  to  the  hilt  of  one  of  the  rapiers. 
You  will  hold  three  for  the  choice.  As  he  has 
first  pick,  hold  the  one  with  the  nicked  blade 
closer  to  him  than  the  others.  If  he  chooses 
that  one,  well  and  good.  If  he  does  not  I  will 
have  to  rely  upon  my  skill.  Should  I  see  him 
take  the  defective  weapon  I  will  know  my 
game.  So  there  is  not  such  a  bad  business  about 


The  Nicked  Rapier.  1 1 1 

it.  If  he  chooses  the  nicked  rapier,  a  quick 
stroke,  after  a  few  feints,  will  snap  it  close  to  the 
hilt.  There  will  be  no  suspicion.  It  will  be 
attributed  to  the  steel  being  cold  or  a  flaw. 
Come  what  do  you  say?" 

"No  I  do  not  like  it." 

"Besides  I  suspect  him." 

"Of  what?" 

"A  spy  to  the  king." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"No.  I  am  not  positive.  Come  you  have  lost 
much  the  last  few  days,  play  this  thing  through 
and  you  will  be  amply  rewarded." 

"Then"  said  Eugenie  "I  rushed  out  to  find 
Le  prince  but  he  was  not  to  be  found.  The 
butler  said  that  he  had  left  in  a  carriage.  Oh 
Madame  what  shall  I  do?" 

"Trust  to  his  good  luck." 

"What  and  let  him  be  foully  murdered?" 

"What  do  you  care?" 

"What  do  I  care?  Honor  is  enough  to  care 
for." 

"Perhaps  it  is  more  than  honor,  which  makes 
you  so  impatient  to  save  him." 

"I  am  not  a  spy  as  others  are"  was  the  cold 
retort. 


ii2  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

Madame's  face  flushed  but  she  let  the  taunt 
go  by  unheeded. 

"You  go  rest  yourself  and  tomorrow  all  will 
be  well.  You  are  excited  and  nervous  and  per- 
haps it  is  not  as  bad  as  you  think." 

Eugenie  saw  plainly  that  Madame  was  not 
much  concerned  about  the  prince's  safety,  for 
should  he  be  killed  then  a  great  secret  would 
be  taken  from  her  mind.  So  Eugenie  formed 
her  own  plans  and  withdrew  to  her  room  in 
silence. 

About  an  half  hour  before  dawn  a  figure  in 
black  stole  from  Eugenie's  room  and  quietly 
hastened  along  the  corridors,  out  into  the  open 
air.  For  a  moment  she  paused  and  then  she 
hurried  through  the  court-yard  to  the  stable.  It 
would  take  too  much  time  to  wake  the  groom. 
A  window  was  silently  opened,  applying  her 
strength  it  opened  wide  enough  to  admit  her. 

Madame  had  in  her  stable  a  beautiful  black 
horse  for  her  own  pleasure  riding.  In  climbing 
through  the  window,  Eugenie  over-turned  an 
obstacle  which  made  much  noise.  For  a  mo- 
ment she  stood  and  held  her  breath  but  every- 
thing was  silent.  Could  she  find  Madame's  sad- 
dle ?  She  was  rumaging  about  in  the  dark  when 


The  Nicked  Rapier.  113 

suddenly  a  light  flashed  in  her  face  and  the  bar- 
rel of  a  pistol  was  pointed  straight  at  her.  At 
the  sight  of  Eugenie  the  groom  lowered  the 
weapon. 

"Madame  is  very  ill,  and  I  am  going  fo,r  some 
medicine  from  the  doctor.  Quick  saddle  her 
horse." 

"Madamoiselle  I  will  go  for  you." 
"No  that  will  not  do,  you  do  not  know  what 
she  requires.  Quick,  saddle  him."  There  was 
no  alternative  so  he  quickly  followed  her  in- 
structions. All  through  the  operation  of  sad- 
dling the  horse,  the  animal  stood  champing  his 
bit  and  violently  pawing  the  floor. 

"Madamoiselle  he  is  wild  this  morning,  it  is 
best  you  let  me  go." 

"No  I  cannot;  I  will  manage  him  all  right." 
Helping  her  slight  figure  into  the  saddle,  he 
let  loose  the  rein  and  the  animal  sped  along  the 
driveway  at  a  rapid  rate.  It  was  a  full  half 
hour's  ride  from  Madame's  home  to  the  forest 
where  the  bout  was  to  be  held  and  Eugenie  knew 
that  she  had  no  time  to  lose.  A  cold  breeze  was 
stirring  and  the  noise  of  the  clattering  hoofs,  on 
the  pavements,  awoke  the  echoes.  The  animal 
needed  no  encouragement,  only  too  glad  to  have 


H4  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

his  freedom  he  sped  along  the  road  at  a  terrific 
gait,  Madamoiselle  riding  him  gracefully. 
After  awhile  she  reached  the  edge  of  the  forest 
and  followed  the  little  winding  pathway,  the 
over-hanging  boughs  at  times  just  grazed  her 
head.  The  morning  twilight  was  just  breaking 
and  here  and  there  a  red  streak,  like  a  smear  of 
blood,  flashed  on  the  horizon.  ISTow  and  then 
a  twitter  of  the  birds  in  the  trees  sounded  as  she 
passed  in  her  hurried  flight. 

"They  must  have  begun"  she  murmured  to 
herself.  A  few  moments  later  and  she  heard  in 
the  distance  the  cold  rasp  of  steel.  Her  face 
was  burning  hot  and  the  breeze  was  a  welcome 
balm. 

"Mon  Dieu !  what  if  he  has  chosen  the  nicked 
rapier."  Now  for  the  first  time,  she  urged  the 
horse  to  quicken  his  speed.  The  clash  came 
louder  and  nearer  at  every  stride.  "Mon  Dieu  ! 
any  moment  may  be  the  end."  The  sound  had 
ceased,  her  face  turns  from  fire  to  cold.  Was  it 
over?  She  could  draw  the  picture  in  her  mind, 
of  the  prince  laying  on  the  ground,  the  soil  about 
him  dyed  crimson  with  his  fast  ebbing  life,  the 
handle  of  the  broken  rapier  in  his  hand — good 
God  why  had  she  not  started  sooner — .  "What 


The  Nicked  Rapier.  115 

was  that?  Xo  it  was  not  over  yet,  again  the 
sound  caught  her  ear,  they  were  at  it  once  more. 
Probably  the  last  pause  was  caused  by  a  touch. 

Onward  the  horse  staggered,  weak  with  his 
exhaustion;  another  moment  and  she  rushed 
into  the  open  spot,  riding  between  the  astonished 
combatants  who,  at  the  sound  of  her  approach 
had  ceased  their  onslaught.  Hastily  she  dis- 
mounted. "Madamoiselle  de  Yere,"  all  ex- 
claimed. She  was  cold  and  deliberate  but  it  was 
forced. 

"Madamoiselle"  the  prince  said  "I  asked  and 
you  promised  that  this  affair  of  honor  would  be 
uninterrupted." 

"Monsieur,  this  is  not  an  affair  of  honor.  It 
is  murder,  base  murder." 

"Well  then  do  not  disturb  us"  said  Andre 
coldly,  "come  Monsieur  we  will  finish"  and  he 
brushed  Madamoiselle  roughly  aside.  There 
was  a  swish  and  Eugenie's  riding  whip  fell  full 
across  his  face  and  left  its  mark. 

"Stop"  she  cried  "you  murderer  and  coward." 

Had  Madamoiselle  been  a  man,  she  would 
have  been  killed  on  the  spot.  As  it  was,  Andre 
rushed  forward,  and  no  one  knows  how  the  affair 
would  have  ended,  but  Captain  Moran  wrenched 


n6  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  rapier  from  his  hand  and  stood  between  him 
and  Eugenie,  his  handsome  face  beaming  with 
rage. 

"Is  it  not  enough  to  make  one  attempt?"  he 
asked. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  Madamoiselle, 
the  endangerment  of  your  life?"  enquired  the 
prince. 

"It  means  Monsieur,  that  I  have  come  to  save 
you  from  being  murdered." 

"I  do  not  understand?" 

"Monsieur  will  try  his  weapon  over  his  knee, 
if  it  does  not  break  he  may  resume  the  bout 
without  interruption  and  I  will  withdraw.  I 
mean  that  if  you  have  not  chosen  the  nicked 
rapier — " 

"What  is  this  about  a  nicked  rapier?" 

"You  have  almost  been  the  victim  of  a  base 
plot.  Monsieur  will  do  me  the  honor  to  try  his 
sword." 

Andre,  during  the  conversation,  was  slowly 
edging  from  the  group  towards  where  the  horses 
which  had  brought  them  were  tethered  to  a  tree. 
The  prince  bent  his  weapon  across  his  knee  and 
it  snapped  like  a  twig.  Just  then  there  was  a 
shout  and  Andre  who  had  gained  his  horse  leaped 
into  the  saddle  and  dashed  away. 


An  Act  of  Pity.  1 1 7 


CHAPTER  X. 

AN  ACT  OF  PITY. 

The  frozen  stillness  of  the  north  was  disturbed 
by  the  rumbling  wheels  of  artillery  and  the 
tramp  of  armed  men.  "Russia  must  be  con- 
quered," was  Napoleon's  thought.  "The  world 
must  bow  at  my  feet."  Campaigning  in  Russia 
was  bound  to  try  his  patience  and  control,  it  was 
not  the  same  as  fighting  over  ground  which  was 
well  known,  where  there  was  an  abundance  of 
provisions  and  where  there  was  not  the  sting  of 
bitter  cold.  Only  Napoleon's  prestige  and  the 
constant  hope  of  victory  led  the  weakened  army 
onward.  The  suffering  was  almost  unendurable. 
True,  battles  were  won,  but  at  what  cost?  A 
cost  so  great  that  they  were  almost  as  much  as 
a  defeat.  Each  day  brought  fresh  misfortune 
and  new  dissatisfaction.  Soldiers  dreamed  of 
home  and  dear  ones.  The  camp-fires  only  served 
to  bring  happy  recollections  of  the  past.  But 


n8  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

Napoleon  said,  Alexander  must  be  humbled  and 
Moscow  must  fall,  if  he  must  do  it  himself. 

Thus  far  he  had  met  with  stern  resistance  but 
always  was  he  victorious.  Moscow  must  fall  in 
a  short  time,  for  he  was  now  not  more  than  a 
night's  march  from  his  destiny.  The  city  must 
be  taken  eitKer  by  surprise  or  by  force,  but  sur- 
render it  must,  for  Napoleon's  mind  was  set  and 
nothing  could  dissuade  him. 

Just  as  dusk  was  falling,  a  man  wrapped  deep 
in  a  long  red  cloak,  his  face  almost  hidden  in  its 
folds,  sat  near  to  the  smouldering  embers  of  a 
dying  fire,  shaded  so  as  not  to  attract  attention. 
Near  by  sat  another,  warming  his  tingling  fingers 
at  the  fire,  a  youth  with  a  slender,  light  figure 
and  an  honest  open  face.  The  ground  was 
covered  for  miles  and  miles,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  with  a  white  coating  of  snow.  At 
times  flakes  would  descend  and  strike  the  face 
with  a  stinging  coldness.  Suddenly  the  youth 
raised  his  head  and  spoke:  "Mario,  will  Na- 
poleon move  on  Moscow  tonight,  do  you  think?" 

"Nothing  is  more  probable  Frangois,  he  will 
take  it  by  surprise  if  we  do  not  warn  the  city." 

At  this  point  the  army  was  divided.  Some 
camped  at  one  place  and  the  other  half  was  fur- 
ther in  advance.  Between  these  two  sat  Mario 


An  Act  of  Pity.  1 1 9 

and  Frangois,  the  King's  servant.  The  soldiers 
were  of  better  spirit  for  shelter  was  near  at  hand 
and  Napoleon  had  promised  them  that,  that 
night  they  should  have  plenty  of  comfort. 

Suddenly '  hoof  falls  were  audible  in  the  dis- 
tance. Quickly  the  two  quietly  slid  from  the 
fire  into  the  darkness.  Soon  the  rider  came 
nearer,  changing  his  course  to  find  the  meaning 
of  the  dying  embers.  Suddenly,  from  the  dark- 
ness came  a  Hand,  which  seized  the  bridle,  send- 
ing the  horse  back  upon  his  haunches  with  such 
force  that  it  unseated  its  rider.  A  curse  broke 
from  the  man  as  he  sprawled  upon  the  snow. 
For  a  moment  he  was  stunned,  but  for  a  moment 
only  and  he  was  on  his  feet,  his  hand  on  his 
sword,  but  he  was  not  quick  enough.  A  strong 
hand  gripped  his  throat  and  another  held  his 
wrist  as  in  a  vice  of  steel.  Strangely  there  was 
not  the  least  noise. 

Hand  to  hand  they  struggled,  but  the  dis- 
mounted rider  was  no  match  for  his  opponent, 
and  he  was  soon  on  his  back,  the  man  pressing 
heavily  upon  his  breast  with  his  knee. 

"Come  your  orders,"  panted  the  captor. 

"I  have  none." 

"You  lie.  Produce  them.  Quick !  Your 
life  depends  upon  it.  There  is  not  a  moment  to 


I2O  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

lose,  you  are  the  messenger  to  order  the  advance 
guard  to  move,  and  Napoleon  may  now  he 
inarching  on  to  join  them  and  then  take  Mos- 
cow." 

"I  have  no  orders"  panted  the  man. 

The  figure  made  no  answer,  but  from  heneath 
his  cloak  drew  his  dagger  and  pressed  it  to  the 
prostrate  man's  neck. 

"Quick  not  a  moment  must  be  lost."  The 
man  felt  the  point  uncomfortably  near  his  jug- 
gler and  said: 

"In  my  bosom." 

With  a  quick,  dexterous  movement  the  man 
ripped  the  doublet  clean  and  reached  the  order. 
Then  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  still  holding  the 
man  beneath  him  he  read: 

"Will  join  you  soon,  then  take  Moscow  by 
surprise  at  daybreak." 

As  the  light  flashed  up  the  men's  eyes  met, 
and  almost  simultaneously,  they  exclaimed 
"Pierre;"  "Mario."  These  were  the  only  words 
spoken  and  Mario  and  Francois  quickly  bound 
Captain  Moran  hand  and  foot  with  their  sword 
belts,  but  not  without  a  struggle  for  he  recog- 
nized the  result  should  Napoleon's  army  not 
stumble  upon  him. 

"Napoleon  will  take  Moscow  at  day-break,  I 


An  Act  of  Pity.  121 

surmised  as  much.  Au  revoir  Monsieur  le 
Captain,"  and  with  a  triumphant  laugh  Mario 
disappeared.  From  a  clump  of  trees  Mario  led 
his  horse  and  waited  for  Frangois,  who  had  re- 
mained behind,  to  scatter  the  still  glowing  em- 
bers. It  seemed  as  though  the  last  spark  of  the 
Captain's  hope  was  dying.  He  understood  his 
fate,  should  he  not  be  discovered  ere  morning. 
The  Captain's  eyes  followed  Frangois'  every 
movement  with  entreaty  plainly  written  in  them, 
but  he  said  nothing. 

"Monsieur,  you  are  brave"  whispered  Fran- 
cois. 

No  answer. 

"I  cannot  see  a  brave  man  die  of  starvation 
and  cold  without  a  chance." 

"Come.  Come,"  shouted  Mario.  Frangois 
stood  hesitatingly.  One  stroke  of  his  knife 
would  free  the  man.  Pity  was  working  in  his 
mind.  Mario  was  again  calling  him  to  hasten 
and  he  started  to  follow  him.  When,  suddenly, 
as  if  his  mind  had  been  made  up,  he  retraced 
the  few  steps  he  had  taken,  he  stooped  over  the 
prostrate  man  and  drew  his  knife  from  its  sheath. 
"I  will  release  you"  he  whispered  "but  do  not 
move  until  we  are  gone." 

"Sacre  are  you  coming?"  cried  Mario  impati- 


122  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

ently.  The  bonds  were  cut  the  man  was  free,  but 
he  lay  still  and  as  Frangois  bounded  away  the 
cold  wind  brought  him  the  heartfelt  words, 
"Merci,  merci  Monsieur." 

Mounting  his  horse,  he  and  Mario  dug  their 
spurs  into  the  flanks  and  away  they  dashed  to 
warn  Moscow  of  its  impending  danger.  On- 
ward they  struggled  through  the  deep  snow, 
while  the  cold  cutting  wind  brought  fresh  flakes 
to  blind  them  and  hinder  their  progress.  The 
darkness  was  intense,  not  a  spark  was  discerni- 
ble and  they  relied  wholly  upon  Mario's  knowl- 
edge of  the  way  they  were  traveling.  Onward 
they  rode  in  silence,  every  now  and  then  giving 
their  horses  a  breathing  spell.  They  had  ridden 
an  hour  or  so  when  Mario  suddenly  stopped, 
"What  is  it?"  Francois  asked. 

"Do  you  not  hear  anything?" 

"No"  he  answered. 

"Faster  faster,"  was  all  Mario  said  but  in  such 
a  way  that  meant  to  serve  as  a  warning.  On- 
ward they  rushed  while  the  snow  began  to  fall 
heavier  and  heavier,  their  horses  at  times  stumb- 
ling into  drifts,  which  the  wind  had  heaped  high. 
After  awhile  they  stopped  again.  This  time 
sure  enough,  there  came  to  Frangois'  ears  a  low 


An  Act  of  Pity.  1 23 

ominous  sound,  a  sound  of  terror  and  horror, 
but  lie  could  not  make  it  out.  Was  it  the  rum- 
ble of  cannon  wheels,  or  the  trampling  of  cav- 
alry? He  could  not  interpret  the  sound. 

"It  cannot  be  the  army?"  he  asked. 

"Worse.  We  must  move  faster,  or  we  will 
never  reach  Moscow." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  terrified  Frangois. 

Mario  gave  no  time  for  explanation  as  every 
moment  was  valuable,  but  Francois  heard  the 
word  "wolves."  Louder  and  louder  that  low 
muttering  growl  grew.  But  Moscow  must  be 
warned. 

Already  Francois'  horse  was  stumbling  with 
weakness  and  every  moment  brought  the  blood 
thirsty  pack  nearer  to  its  prey  and  it  would  only 
be  a  short  time  when  there  would  be  an  en- 
counter. 

Suddenly  without  warning  Francois'  horse 
stumbled,  but  regained  itself,  but  was  lagging 
far  behind  Mario.  "Had  the  pack  stumbled 
upon  the  Captain?  Praise  God,  his  conscience 
was  clear  but  Mario's  how  was  his?"  It  did  not 
seem  to  bother  him  the  least,  this  disciple  of  the 
devil.  The  next  moment  Mario  drew  rein. 
The  snarling  and  snapping  was  clearly  audible. 


124  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"Dismount.  Your  horse  can  no  longer  carry 
you,"  he  said  and  coolly  drew  his  sword  from  its 
sheath  and  thrust  the  cold  steel  through  its  pant- 
ing sides.  The  animal  sank  to  the  ground. 
"That  will  serve  to  hold  them  for  a  time.  But 
if  we  do  not  soon  come  upon  a  village  we  are 
lost.  Mount  back  of  me." 

The  growls  were  louder  now,  as  the  beasts 
fought  over  the  carcass  of  the  horse  but  it  would 
only  be  a  moment's  respite  and  a  whetting  to 
their  appetite.  Mario's  horse  labored  faithfully 
onward  under  its  double  weight  but  the  pack  was 
soon  again  moving. 

"Use  your  spurs."  Mario  shouted  and  the 
blood  came  faster  from  the  already  bleeding 
sides  of  the  horse,  but  of  no  avail.  The  leaders 
of  the  pack  were  already  upon  them  and  one 
sprang  forward  at  the  laboring  beast's  neck,  but 
found  the  needle  point  of  Mario's  blade  and 
sank  down,  to  have  its  life  blood  drank  by  its 
followers  and  serve  as  another  respite.  Sud- 
denly there  loomed  up  a  hut  before  them,  then 
a  larger  house.  They  were  saved,  it  was  the 
outskirts  of  Moscow,  into  the  yard  of  an  inn  they 
rushed  and  Moscow  was  warned. 


BOOK    III. 

CHAPTEK  I. 

THE  BURNING  OF  MOSCOW. 

Some  time  afterwards,  the  advancing  army 
stumbled  upon  Pierre's  benumbed  body.  After 
awhile  he  was  revived  and  his  first  words  were: 
"the  man  in  the  red  cloak,"  but  that  was  enough, 
all  understood. 

A  curse  broke  from  Napoleon,  "Sacre,  he  is 
everywhere,  we  must  move  faster." 

Napoleon's  dilapidated  army  the  next  day,  the 
5th  of  September  entered  Moscow  and  to  his  sur- 
prise was  met  with  no  resistance,  the  first  time 
in  his  Russian  campaign.  The  authorities  were 
gone  and  everything  was  quiet. 

Darkness  had  just  settled  over  the  city.  The 
soldiers  were  comfortable  and  praised  their 
leader.  Rioting  was  at  its  height,  the  discarded 

dice  were  brought  into  play,  the  cards  were  shuf- 

125 


126  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

fled  and  the  noise  within,  drowned  out  the  noise 
without.  Cellars  were  looted  of  their  stock 
and  store  of  delicacies  and  wines.  Soldiers 
chattered  of  their  great  victory.  Officers  con- 
gregated together,  bumped  their  glasses,  con- 
gratulated themselves,  little  doubting  or  little 
thinking  of  the  great  plot  that  was  working 
against  them. 

Suddenly  in  the  midst  of  this  revelry  and  was- 
sail, there  came  the  cry  of,  "fire,  fire."  All 
rushed  out  to  extinguish  the  blaze,  but  it  was 
too  late.  That  same  cry  sounded  in  every  street, 
to  the  consternation  of  the  whole  army.  The 
conflagration  spread  with  such  rapidity  that  soon 
the  whole  city  was  a  sea  of  flame  and  smoke, 
fanned  into  greater  fierceness  by  the  strong  wind. 
Mario  had  gained  his  point. 

Building  after  building  fell  midst  showers  of 
sparks,  it  seemed  as  if  it  were  a  huge  funeral 
pyre,  built  to  cremate  Napoleon's  ambition. 
Street  after  street  became  impassable.  Horse- 
men dashed  through  the  burning  embers,  shout- 
ing command  after  command,  which  were  un- 
heeded. Men  rushed  hither  and  thither,  but 
to  no  effect.  Napoleon  was  stationed  in  the 
highest  part  of  the  city,  reviewing  the  grand  but 


The  Burning  of  Moscow.  127 

awful  and  distracting  sight  before  him,  Dark 
figures  were  seen,  flitting  about  in  the  shadows 
with  fire-brands  in  their  hands,  setting  fire  to  the 
parts  of  the  city  which  were  not  yet  consumed  or 
being  consumed.  The  army  was  in  a  wretched 
state.  They  had  plenty  of  fire,  but  provisions 
were  being  taken  right  from  their  grasp.  Every 
now  and  then  a  deafening  explosion  was  heard, 
showing  that  powder  was  also  used  in  the  de- 
struction. 

In  the  midst  of  the  falling  buildings,  a  figure 
with  a  fluttering  cloak,  was  making  his  way  to 
the  place  where  ISTapoleon  was  stationed. 
ISTearer  and  nearer  he  came,  dodging  into  the 
shadows.  Once  a  house  toppled  and  fell  amidst 
a  burst  of  flame  and  revealed  this  man  to  Na- 
poleon. 

"Stop  him.  Stop  him"  he  shouted  "stop  the 
man  in  the  red  cloak,  he  has  caused  all  this." 

Several  rushed  forward,  but  were  driven  back 
by  the  awful  heat.  One  dashed  through  the 
circle  and  met  the  approaching  man.  With 
their  swords  they  fought,  "the  man  ir  the  red 
cloak"  carrying  in  his  other  hand  a  flaming  torch. 
What  his  motive  might  be  was  not  exactly  clear, 
but  he  met  his  opponent  and  their  swords 


128  The  Clash  of  Steel 

crossed.  Stroke  after  stroke,  parry  after  parry, 
iunge  after  lunge  and  the  man  in  the  red  cloak 
was  slowly  but  surely  forcing  his  opponent  to  re- 
treat into  the  circle  of  flame,  which  was  separat- 
ing Napoleon  and  him  more  and  more. 

Now  they  were  treading  the  very  sparks,  so 
close  were  they  to  the  fire.  The  heat  was  al- 
most unbearable  but  they  fought  on,  the  one  with 
desperation,  for  death  stared  him  in  the  face. 
The  other  with  determination  to  gain  his  end. 
Suddenly  a  building  fell  and  hid  them  from 
Napoleon's  view,  but  after  the  sparks  were  gone 
and  the  smoke  was  driven  away,  he  saw  the  nut- 
ter of  a  cloak  to  his  left  and  its  wearer  was 
alone. 

Then  there  was  a  cry  "save  yourself  Majesty: 
save  yourself  Napoleon,  the  house  is  undermined 
with  powder." 

Napoleon  retreated  hastily  through  the  outlet 
which  was  kept  open  for  him.  Hardly  had  he 
reached  a  place  of  safety,  when  there  was  a  ter- 
rific explosion  and  the  spot  whereon  he  stood  was 
a  mass  of  smouldering  ruins.  Sullenly  the 
lorces  followed  Napoleon  upon  that  famous  re- 
creat.  Those  who  were  not  killed  by  the  cos- 


The  Burning  of  Moscow.  129 

sacks,  who  constantly  hovered  around  the  rear  of 
the  army,  either  died  on  the  road  from  starva- 
tion and  cold,  or  dragged  themselves  half  dead 
after  their  defeated  general.  That  was  a  mem- 
orable night,  for  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 


130  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

EXILE. 

It  seemed  as  if  Napoleon's  career  was  checked, 
even  if  not  forever,  for  a  time  at  least.  De- 
jected and  defeated,  the  victor  of  so  many 
battles  dragged  himself  homeward,  followed  by 
his  dilapidated  and  bewildered  army.  The  men 
were  glad  to  hear  once  again  the  command  that 
they  were  on  their  way  to  home  and  loved  ones, 
their  ardor  and  spirit  had  forsaken  them  and 
dejectedly  they  followed  the  conquered  con- 
queror on  his  famous  retreat. 

Peace  was  again,  if  such  it  may  be  styled,  for 
Napoleon  was  vanquished  and  had  surrendered 
and  was  sent  into  an  exile,  which  to  many  others 
would  not  have  been  an  exile:  but  to  this  Em- 
peror of  Emperors  and  soldier  of  soldiers  it  was 
bitter  humiliation.  He  was  made  an  officer 
of  the  little  Isle  of  Elba. 

The  Bourbons  ascended  the  throne  they  had 


Exile.  131 

lost,  but  it  was  not  Louis  XVI,  lie  had  died  and 
it  was  his  brother  Louis  XVIII  who  was  propped 
upon  the  vacant,  insecure  throne.  The  flag  of 
the  Bourbons  floated  and  revelry  and  victorious 
joy,  like  the  smouldering  fires  of  a  volcano,  burst 
forth  with  renewed  energy  and  force. 

Everywhere  was  pleasure  and  enjoyment  with 
the  Bourbons,  while  the  Napoleonic  followers 
quietly  left  their  posts  of  honor  and  settled  into 
silent  submission.  An  entirely  new  regime  was 
taking  place  and  everything  was  changed.  Na- 
poleon was  an  exile.  Josephine  was  retired  in 
the  solitude  of  Malmaison,  dreaming  of  happy 
days  gone  by,  the  Prince  de  Tristesse  was  absent 
from  the  "Alhambra,"  no  one  knew  where, 
Mario  was  buried  in  the  silent  shadow  of  Chateau 
de  Nuit.  Thus  for  a  time  silent,  peaceful  pleas- 
ure, rested  over  the  country  so  rent  and  torn  by 
strife  and  war. 

But  Napoleon  on  the  island  of  Elba,  like  a 
lion  rising  from  its  night  of  restful  slumber, 
hungry  and  impatient  for  another  conflict  to  as- 
sert its  powers,  was  silently  and  securely  gather- 
ing about  him  an  army  to  regain  what  he 
had  lost.  That  restless  spirit  could  not  be  satis- 
fied to  remain  within  its  bounds,  that  spirit 


132  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

longed  for  contests  it  had  so  often  fought.  That 
warrior  feeling  arose  in  his  hreast  and  longed  for 
the  din  of  battle,  for  the  thunder  of  cannon  and 
the  rattle  of  musketry.  His  dreams  must  be 
realized.  When  Napoleon  said  must,  there  was 
no  retraction,  his  will  must  either  be  fulfilled,  or 
unconditional  surrender. 

Suddenly  Paris  was  thrown  into  a  great  state 
of  excitement.  Humors  spread  from  mouth  to 
mouth  that  Xapoleon  had  left  the  island  with  a 
handful  of  men  and  was  on  his  way  to  the  con- 
tinent. It  was  indeed  true.  On  the  26th  day 
of  February,  1815,  he  set  sail  with  a  few  barks 
conveying  his  little  band.  He  passed  the  vigi- 
lance of  those  set  to  watch  him  and  had  gained  a 
good  start.  What  must  have  been  his  feelings 
on  that  day?  Returning  to  a  country  where  he 
did  not  know  whether  the  people  would  meet  him 
with  resistance  or  with  open  arms.  He  returned 
to  France  and  at  Grenoble  the  troops  sent  out  to 
prevent  his  entrance  to  the  land  he  had  caused 
so  much  suffering  and  pain,  when  they  saw  the 
gray  coat  of  the  Emperor  and  heard  the  voice 
which  had  commanded  them  above  volleys  of 
musketry,  dropped  their  arms  and  shouted  in  one 


Exile.  133 

voice,  "vive  L'  Empereur"  and  gathered  about 
his  standards.  The  French  people  are  a  strange 
nation  and  are  ever  ready  for  a  change  and  now 
there  was  a  chance.  By  this  time  they  were  dis- 
satisfied with  the  Bourbon  regime  and  the  old 
spirit  of  past  days  was  again  awakened  and  Xa- 
poleon  had  won  the  first  victory  in  his  new  cam- 
paign without  a  struggle.  One  alone  stood  firm 
and  he  had  promised  to  bring  back  the  Corsican 
in  an  iron  cage.  But  he  was  only  firm,  until  he 
saw  the  colors  under  which  he  had  so  often 
fought  and  until  he  heard  the  shouts  of  his  men, 
he  had  so  often  led  beneath  those  colors,  and  he 
was  again  Marshall  Xey. 

Like  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  as  they  burst 
forth  in  the  east,  first  playing  along  the  horizon 
and  then  over-spreading  all  the  heavens  with  a 
welcome  light,  so  the  news  of  Napoleon's  return 
spread  over  all  France.  Hamlet  and  city  joined 
in  one  acclamation  of  gladness  at  the  Emperor's 
return.  Onward  Xapoleon  went  and  nearer  and 
nearer  he  came  to  Paris.  Troops,  that  were  sent 
out  against  him,  were  only  sent  to  re-inforce  his 
fast  growing  army,  and  generals  who  had  in- 
tended to  raise  their  swords  against  ^Napoleon, 


134  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

broke  their  blades  across  their  knees  and  joined 
with  their  soldiers  to  fight  for  the  Emperor. 
The  corporal  violet  had  appeared,  about  whom  a 
certain  class  of  people  had  spoken,  and  the  mean- 
ing of  the  bunches  of  violets,  worn  in  the  lapel 
or  on  the  breast  or  in  the  hair  was  explained. 
Paris  was  terror  stricken  at  the  conqueror's  near 
approach.  Louis  fled  and  the  city  was  placed  in 
the  hands  of  Marshal  Soult  and  the  police.  On- 
ward Napoleon  came  on  his  triumphal  march, 
until  once  again  he  sat  upon  the  throne,  until 
once  again  he  was  Emperor  of  France.  But  his 
triumph  was  of  short  duration.  It  arose  in  a 
night  and  it  was  destined  to  fall  in  almost  as 
short  a  time,  but  there  was  more  action  crowded 
into  the  hundred  days  following  his  return  than 
any  other  space  of  time  of  the  same  duration. 

It  was  not  the  Frenchmen  who  defeated  Na- 
poleon, it  was  not  one  nation  that  humbled  the 
Emperor,  but  four.  Alexander  could  not  forget 
and  the  old  feeling  of  hatred  arose  and  would  not 
be  silenced.  There  was  another,  who  could  not 
smother  out  his  feelings  and  gave  them  full  play ; 
stronger  than  ever  Mario  again  threw  himself 
into  the  conflict,  stronger  than  ever  and  with 


Exile.  135 

more  cunning  and  daring.  Through  the  com- 
bined efforts  of  these  two,  although  working  sep- 
arately, the  old  coalation  of  1813,  consisting  of 
Russia,  Prussia,  England  and  Sweden  was  again 
renewed  and  again  the  joint  forces  took  the  field 
to  conquer  once  more  the  conqueror. 


136  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTER  in. 

CAUGHT  IN  A  NET. 

The  lily,  the  emblem  of  the  House  of  Bour- 
bon, which  had  flourished  at  the  breast  of  fair 
women  at  the  court  balls,  began  to  fade  and 
droop  until  it  was  succeeded  entirely  by  the 
violet.  Mario  was  again  at  work.  He  had  been 
in  Paris  several  days  and,  after  ascertaining  the 
strength  of  his  adversary  and  in  what  manner  to 
act,  he  decided  to  leave  the  city.  At  last  when 
he  arrived  at  the  outskirts  he  was  confronted  by 
a  soldier. 

"I  beg  Monsieur's  pardon  but  does  he  leave 
the  city?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  you  have  the  password  ?" 

"Password?     Is  then  Paris  guarded?" 

"Yes  Monsieur.  We  have  orders  to  let  no 
one  pass  without  the  word." 

"Whose  orders  are  they?" 


Caught  in  a  Net.  137 

"I  received  mine  from  the  Captain,  from 
whom  he  has  them  I  do  not  know." 

"But  if  I  have  not  the  word?" 

"Then  you  cannot  pass,"  said  the  guard  reso- 
lutely. 

Several  soldiers  were  at  a  distance  and  slowly 
approaching  the  two. 

"Be  careful,  I  have  my  sword  and  may  pass 
by  that  countersign." 

"Monsieur  forgets  that  soldiers  carry  swords 
to  enforce  orders." 

"Come,  away  with  idle  words,  I  have  great 
interests  in  leaving  Paris,  the  affair  is  urgent  and 
I  have  not  time  enough  to  return  and  get  the 
password,  but  I  have  money." 

"Money  may  buy  you  into  heaven,  through 
the  church,  but  money  cannot  buy  you  out  of 
Paris." 

"Well,  then  I  shall  pass  otherwise." 

"N"ot  until  you  cross  my  dead  body,  the  orders 
are  strict  and  I  shall  not  break  them." 

It  was  too  late  for  Mario  to  retreat,  undoubt- 
edly Napoleon  had  thrown  Paris  into  a  sort  of 
drag-net  and  it  would  not  do  for  him  to  be  caught 
in  it.  He  had  but  one  alternative  and  this  he 
chose.  By  this  time  both  had  their  swords  in 


138  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

hand  and  the  fight  was  progressing  rapidly,  when 
the  soldiers  seeing  their  comrade  engaged  ran 
up.  Then  began  a  fight  in  which  all  partici- 
pated. Mario  backed  against  a  wall  so  as  to 
keep  them  from  forming  a  circle  around  him  and 
fight  him  from  all  sides.  The  sentry  fell  with  a 
deep  wound  in  his  neck  and  Mario  fought  like  a 
demon  the  remaining  three.  Another  fell  but 
fatigue  was  fast  showing  itself  and  soon  he 
fainted  to  the  ground  and  the  others  rushed  upon 
him  and  bound  his  hands  behind  his  back.  As 
one  was  kneeling  over  his  prostrate  body  he 
sprang  up  with  a  cry.  "It  is  Mario,  the  man  in 
the  red  cloak,  the  Emperor  will  pay  well  for  this 
capture."  They  carried  him  to  an  impromptu 
prison,  formed  from  an  old  strongly  built  cha- 
teau, which  had  been  changed  into  a  prison  dur- 
ing these  stormy  times  as  was  often  the  case.  A 
strong  guard  was  placed  about  the  prison  and 
Mario  was  conveyed  to  a  room,  well  guarded  by 
bars  and  oaken  doors.  To  make  things  more 
certain,  for  they  trusted  not  this  man,  they  man- 
acled his  hands  in  strong  irons. 

Like  wild  fire  the  news  spread  of  Mario's 
strange  capture.  It  was  first  whispered  from 
mouth  to  mouth  with  uncertainty,  for  the  cap- 


Caught  in  a  Net.  139 

ture  of  such  a  dare-devil  was  so  doubtful  that  few 
gave  it  credence,  but  soon  the  news  was  con- 
firmed and  all  the  Emperor's  followers  shouted 
it  aloud  through  the  streets.  "Mario  is  taken; 
Mario  is  taken,"  came  from  every  corner  and 
the  Emperor  and  his  army  breathed  freer,  for 
there  was  not  one  who  did  not  fear  to  meet  this 
unknown,  mysterious  spy. 

A  man,  young,  slender,  more  fit  for  a  play- 
thing for  the  hearts  of  women  than  to  carry  a 
sword,  was  mingling  in  the  crowd  when  suddenly 
a  great  burley  soldier  next  to  him  shouted: 
"Mario  is  taken." 

"What  is  it  you  shout?"  cried  the  young  man. 

"Is  it  not  good  news  for  you?  You  who 
flashed  your  eyes  on  me  in  such  a  manner?" 

"Pardon,  but  did  I  hear  you  correctly,  did 
you  say  that  Mario,  the  man  in  the  red  cloak 
was  captured?" 

"Those  were  my  words  and  God  be  praised, 
for  he  causes  more  harm  to  our  cause  than  all 
the  armies  put  together  and  his  sword  in 
single  combat  is  twice  as  long  as  any  other." 

Francois,  for  it  was  he,  the  King's  valet,  and 
one  of  Mario's  able  assistants,  whom  we  have  al- 
ready met  on  the  way  to  Moscow,  when  his  pity 


140  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

overcame  him  and  he  saved  the  Captain  Pierre 
Moran's  life,  did  not  deem  it  wise  to  ask  too  many 
questions  of  one  person  so  he  procured  the  de- 
tails from  many  sources  and  being  in  possession 
of  the  pass-word  he  mounted  his  horse  and  left 
Paris.  Once  out  of  the  city  he  pushed  his  horse 
at  utmost  speed  for  he  knew  that  if  Mario  was  to 
be  saved  it  must  be  done  quickly,  for  the  Em- 
peror would  not  let  this  opportunity  slip,  to  put 
this  obstruction  to  his  ambition  and  once  its 
thwarter  out  of  the  way. 


Chateau  De  Nuit.  141 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHATEAU  DE  NUIT. 

In  the  midst  of  a  dense  forest,  secluded  and 
hidden  by  nature's  screen,  dark  with  the  waring 
of  time  and  the  elements, .in  a  location  solemn 
and  quiet  and  still  not  far  distant  from  the  center 
of  three  states,  stood  an  old  stone  chateau.  Sit- 
uated near  the  boundary  of  three  nations,  it  com- 
manded a  source  for  information  of  these  states, 
France,  the  seat  of  war  and  its  beginning,  Ger- 
many, the  hot-bed  of  opposition  and  Belgium, 
the  final  scene  for  Napoleon's  great  tragedy. 

Surrounded  by  its  moats  and  walls,  protected 
by  its  turrets,  it  gave  the  appearance  of  a  huge 
monument  of  the  medieval  times,  times  of  the 
crusades.  From  its  stately,  frowning  and  scowl- 
ing, dark  exterior  it  took  from  the  depths  of  tra- 
dition, the  characteristic  name  of  Chateau  de 
Xuit,  figuratively  meaning  the  "Palace  of  Mys- 
tery." Here  was  Mario's  favorite  rendezvous, 


142  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

this  was  the  base  of  his  operations,  here  his  orders 
were  given  and  here  his  information  was  learned, 
from  his  band  of  characters  peculiarly  like  him- 
self, silent,  stern  and  quick  of  action.  The  band 
was  formed  of  men  of  all  nations.  There  were 
Swiss,  driven  into  exile,  French  from  hatred  to 
Napoleon,  Austrians  from  their  love  of  daring 
and  war,  Germans  to  escape  forced  militarism 
only  to  take  it  up  of  their  own  free  will  and 
others,  but  all  resolute  and  trained  to  action. 

Chateau  de  Xuit  seemed  to  be  a  place  of  mys- 
tery and  enchantment,  the  lord  of  this  place,  who 
was  of  course  Mario,  had  often  been  suspected 
of  treason,  and  detachments  had,  with  their  own 
eyes  seen  spies  enter  this  old  building  but  upon 
searching  it  the  place  would  be  found  vacant  of 
any  person  but  the  old  gray-haired  butler,  who 
admitted  them.  It  could  not  be  understood; 
but  tales  of  ghostly  weirdness  were  current 
among  the  peasant  people  and  soldiers  to  the 
effect  that  at  midnight,  chains  could  be  heard 
clanking  in  the  corridors  and  the  dungeons, 
shrieks  of  victims  being  murdered  without  pity, 
figures  in  white  were  said  to  have  been  seen  to 
walk  the  ramparts,  holding  their  arms  to  heaven 
as  if  imploring  mercy.  Then  the  tramp  of 


Chateau  De  Nuit.  143 

armed  men,  the  clink  of  steel,  the  rasping  of 
blades  and  then  all  would  die  off  into  silence,  ex- 
cept when  an  owl  would  hoot  in  the  distance  or 
the  clock  in  the  dark  ghostly  tower  would  sound 
the  time. 

These  manifestations  were  attributed  to  the 
crimes  committed  by  the  former  lord  of  the 
chateau.  As  far  as  the  traditions  were  con- 
cerned, there  was  some  truth  in  many  of  the 
statements.  No  figures  were  seen  to  walk  the 
walls,  nor  the  clank  of  chains  ever  echoed 
through  the  rooms,  but  the  clash  of  steel  was 
not  at  all  infrequent,  neither  the  tramp  of  armed 
men. 

Admittance  few  could  gain,  but  one  word  and 
the  door  would  be  opened,  but  without  that  word 
they  would,  like  the  ponderous  jaws  of  some 
sleeping  beast,  remain  closed.  There  were  five 
secret  under-ground  passways  from  the  Chateau, 
the  walls  were  all  hollow  with  secret  doors  that 
would  defy  the  ax  or  hammer,  but  would  open 
with  no  noise  and  easily,  let  the  right  spring  be 
touched.  The  rooms  were  of  massive  dimen- 
sions, high  rough  ceilings,  floors  well  carpeted 
and  finely  furnished.  On  the  walls  hung  mas- 
sive paintings,  usually  of  some  noble  ancestor. 


144  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

In  the  corners,  like  mute  sentries  stood  full  suits 
of  armor  straight  and  erect,  with  closed  visors 
and  sword  and  spear  in  hand.  The  least  noise 
would  set  these  spectral  sentries  whispering 
throughout  the  rooms  and  all  in  general  had  such 
a  wierd  aspect  that  it  cast  a  clammy  cold  fear  of 
mystery  over  all. 

It  stood  on  a  hill  solemn,  black,  looking  over 
the  surrounding  country.  Spies  were  often 
traced  to  this  place,  but  once  the  doors  had 
opened  their  ponderous  jaws  and  admitted  them 
into  the  chateau's  mysterious  gloom,  they  would 
disappear  as  if  the  earth  had  opened  and  swal- 
lowed them  from  sight.  On  the  wainscoating 
at  one  side  of  the  room  in  which  the  climax  of 
our  tale  will  be  played,  on  a  high  wooden  panel 
were  dull  red  spots  which  time  had  almost  oblit- 
erated. 

If  one  would  ask  the  butler  of  their  origin, 
he  would  shake  his  head  and  say:  "Monsieur, 
it  was  before  my  time,  they  were  when  I  came, 
but  the  story  has  been  handed  down,  that  many 
years  before  while  the  lord  of  the  chateau, 
in  the  midst  of  an  assembly  of  banqueting 
guests  on  his  wedding  night,  had,  midst  the 
silence  of  the  assembly  raised  on  high  his 


Chateau  De  Nuit.  145 

goblet  of  blood  red  wine,  to  offer  a  toast. 
Ere  he  had  uttered  a  word  there  was  a  shriek  and 
a  bat  had  dashed  out  its  life  against  the  glitter- 
ing goblet  and  its  contents  dyed  the  bridal  robe 
of  his  bride  with  the  blood  red  wine.  That 
night,  after  the  guests  had  left,  still  thinking  of 
the  omen,  a  masked  man  entered  the  deserted 
banquet  hall  and  hand  to  hand  he  fought  with 
the  lord.  Long  and  fiercely  they  fought,  the 
lord  slowly  edging  toward  the  wall,  towards  the 
secret  panel  which  if  he  could  reach,  one  touch 
of  the  spring  would  put  him  safely  out  of  his 
opponent's  reach.  But  the  sword  sheathed  itself 
in  his  breast  just  as  he  reached  the  coveted  spot 
and  his  blood  dyed  the  wall." 

Here  was  Mario's  headquarters,  from  here  he 
operated.  Fleur  de  Lis  would  often  come  to  see 
him  here,  on  important  matters  from  the  king 
and  also  to  tell  him  of  her  love  and  devotion; 
the  first  receiving  his  immediate  attention  the 

last  seemingly  his  disdain. 
10 


146  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

THE  RED  SILK  LADDER. 

Dusk  was  slowly  settling  about  the  somber 
brow  of  Chateau  de  Nuit.  The  sun  had  already 
set  and  twilight  was  sinking  slowly  into  deeper 
shadows  over  the  world.  In  the  great  banquet 
hall  of  the  Chateau,  sat  Fleur  de  Lis,  idly  dream- 
ing and  musing  what  work  was  again  before  her; 
but  she  knew  not  how  to  begin  as  Mario  had  not 
yet  returned  to  direct  her  movements.  Suddenly 
she  was  awakened  from  her  musings  by  the  clat- 
ter of  hoofs  on  the  stones  in  the  court-yard  be- 
neath.  She  saw  through  the  gloom  a  rider, 
hastily  dismount  and  hurriedly  enter  the  build- 
ing. She  heard  footsteps,  anxiously  coming  up 
the  stairs  and  soon  a  knock  sounded  on  the  daor 
and  Frangois  entered  and  threw  himself  breath- 
lessly in  a  chair  to  regain  his  composure.  Fleur 
de  Lis  arose  excitedly  from  where  she  sat,  for 
she  saw  something  was  wrong  and  asked  "what 


The  Red  Silk  Ladder.  147 

brings  you  here  in  such  haste  Franc,  ois?  Is  the 
king  ill  or  dead?" 

"Neither.     Mario  is  taken,  all  is  lost." 

"Mario  taken?"  she  cried,  "it  cannot  be  true, 
he  is  too  shrewd  to  let  such  bunglers  as  those 
Frenchmen  catch  him." 

"It  is  true,  he  is  now  a  captive  in  Paris  and 
the  whole  city  is  rejoicing.  There  is  no  time  to 
lose,  they  will  either  hang  or  shoot  him  soon. 
We  must  release  him  in  some  way." 

"But  how?" 

"I  am  at  a  loss  to  know.  Plan  after  plan  has 
been  passing  through  my  mind  on  my  way  here, 
but  none  seemed  plausible  or  capable  of  freeing 
him.  He  is  strongly  guarded  and  manacled. 
That  makes  the  task  all  the  harder,"  and  he 
paced  the  length  of  the  room  impatiently. 

Lily  sat  in  quiet,  a  look  of  hate  playing  over 
her  white  temples  and  her  forehead  was  con- 
tracted into  a  deeper  frown.  Her  clenched  hand 
lay  upon  the  table,  showing  with  what  resolu- 
tion she  planned  to  accomplish  the  end  which 
was  revolving  in  her  mind,  how  to  gain  Mario's 
release.  Suddenly  she  looked  up. 

"Where  is  he  confined?" 


148  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"In  the  outskirts  of  Paris,  in  a  chateau  lately 
converted  into  a  prison." 

"Do  you  know  the  place?" 

"Very  well,  I  passed  it  on  my  way  here  and 
as  I  went  by  a  crowd  of  gossiping  soldiers,  who 
now  and  then  made  gestures  towards  a  narrow 
window  on  the  third  floor  I  learned  the  exact 
place  where  he  is  held." 

"Is  there  a  guard  about  the  place?" 

"TJiere  are  five  sentries  who  continually  pace 
the  wall  around  the  building.  There  is  the  de- 
tail at  the  entrance  one  at  every  corner  and  one 
at  the  door  of  Mario's  cell.  These  are  relieved 
every  hour.  It  seems  impossible  to  get  him 
out." 

"Nothing  is  impossible.  We  will  try.  I 
have  a  plan.  Call  up  the  Swiss  he  is  here  is  he 
not?" 

"Yes  I  saw  him  as  I  entered.  I  will  have  him 
here  directly,"  and  he  hurriedly  left  the  room 
while  Lily  again  resumed  her  musings. 

Soon  Frangois  returned  followed  by  a  great 
powerful  fellow,  full  six  feet  and  as  straight  as 
a  young  sapling.  He  was  a  Swiss  and  emigrat- 
ing from  his  native  country,  he  entered  France 
during  these  stormy  times  and  had  allied  himself 


The  Red  Silk  Ladder.  149 

with  Mario's  little  band  of  spies.  As  he  entered 
he  made  an  awkward  bow  to  Lily  and  remained 
standing  before  her,  waiting  to  hear  what  she 
wanted  with  him. 

"Andreas,  can  you  shoot  an  arrow?" 

"Madamoiselle  am  I  a  Swiss  or  not?  Every 
Swiss  can  shoot  an  arrow,  it  is  a  characteristic 
of  our  nation,  it  is  learned  from  childhood." 

"Are  you  sure  of  your  aim?" 

"As  sure  as  Tell  was." 

"You  are  conceited  my  man,  but  I  only  hope 
that  your  boasting  is  true.  At  least  we  will  give 
you  a  trial  of  your  skill.  But  have  you  a  bow?" 

"Yes  Madamoiselle  one  with  which  I  amuse 
myself  at  leisure  moments  to  recall  days  when  I 
was  at  home." 

"Is  it  a  toy?" 

"If  toys  will  kill  at  a  hundred  paces,  then  it  is 
such." 

"Well  we  will  not  stretch  the  bow  to  such  a 
trial  as  that,  the  arrow  will  go  less  than  that 
distance.  Go  bring  it  with  a  bunch  of  arrows 
and  order  four  horses,  for  soon  we  will  give  a 
test  to  your  skill." 

The  man  left  wondering  as  he  went  what  his 
task  would  be,  but  he  obeyed  and  soon  returned 


150  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

bearing  his  bow  and  a  bunch  of  arrows.  After  he 
had  left  to  fulfill  Fleur  de  Lis'  orders,  Frangois 
turned  to  her:  "of  what  use  can  this  man  be  to 
us  with  his  arrows?  They  are  out  of  date." 

"I  shall  tell  you  later"  and  she  went  to  a  side 
panel,  pressed  a  spring  and  the  wall  opened,  re- 
vealing a  beautiful  inlaid  casket.  From  this 
she  took  a  long  light  silk  ladder,  a  small  round 
file  and  some  silk  thread.  Then  she  seated  her- 
self at  the  table  and  on  a  small  piece  of  paper 
wrote  a  few  lines.  By  this  time  the  Swiss  had 
returned  and  she  said:  "now  on  to  Paris  at  full 
speed." 

Frangois  was  full  of  curiosity  to  know  the 
plan,  but  he  knew  it  would  not  do  to  ask  her. 
So  he  remained  quiet.  The  Swiss  followed 
dumb  with  curiosity,  for  to  ask  would  do  no 
good.  They  rode  hard  and  in  due  time  entered 
Paris.  Darkness  was  just  falling  and  with  their 
faces  muffled  in  their  cloaks  and  as  Francois  had 
the  pass-word  they  were  admitted  without  any 
trouble.  After  awhile  they  arrived  near  the 
Chateau  where  Mario  was  confined  and  fastening 
their  horses  to  a  clump  of  trees  on  a  vacant  lot 
some  distance  away,  they  made  ready  to  put 
Lily's  plan  into  operation. 


The  Red  Silk  Ladder.  151 

The  night  was  very  dark  and  a  low  muttering 
sounded  in  the  west,  announcing  a  coming  storm. 
The  prison  loomed  up  dark  and  gloomy,  only 
in  a  window  in  the  third  story  was  a  light.  The 
sentry  was  slowly  pacing  his  beat  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  in  length,  at  each  end  he  would  meet 
another  sentry  and  after  the  challenge  would 
pass  over  the  same  course  again.  All  was  quiet 
but  for  the  tread  of  the  sentry  and  now  a  distant 
clock  struck  ten.  Three  figures  were  behind  a 
bush  which  grew  on  a  vacant  lot  adjoining  the 
prison. 

"There  where  you  see  the  light  is  his  cell"  said 
Frangois.  Lily  then  turned  to  the  Swiss.  "An- 
dreas do  you  see  that  window  with  a  light  in  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  shoot  an  arrow  through  it?" 

"With  ease  Madamoiselle,"  said  the  crafty 
man  measuring  the  distance  with  his  eyes. 

"Then  take  an  arrow,  tie  this  note  to  it  with 
this  silk  cord  and  fire  it  through  the  window. 
But  take  care,  do  not  miss,  for  the  life  of  your 
lord  depends  upon  your  skill.  The  note  reads, 
— there  you  need  not  strike  a  light  I  know  it 
by  memory." 

"Mario:  two  more  arrows  will  follow  this  one, 


152  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

the  first  will  bear  a  file  in  the  bottom  of  its  shaft, 
the  second  will  bring  you  a  silk  cord,  pull  it  up 
when  you  are  ready  to  descend.  When  you  re- 
ceive the  first  arrow,  darken  the  window  for  a 
second  to  let  us  know  that  you  have  received  it 
safely.  "When  the  next  comes  do  the  same,  then 
file  the  links  of  your  manacles  and  the  bars  at 
your  window.  When  you  are  ready  for  the 
third,  again  darken  the  window  for  a  moment 
and  we  will  fire  it.  Then  when  you  are  ready 
to  descend  extinguish  the  light.  You  must  cross 
the  wall  as  best  you  can,  it  is  rough  and  you  can 
easily  climb  it.  Trust  to  the  signal  to  find  us. 
We  are  directly  opposite  your  window.  Signed, 
Fleur  de  Eis." 

The  note  was  carefully  bound  with  a  piece  of 
silk  cord  and  the  archer,  stepping  aside  so  as  not 
to  have  anything  obstruct  his  aim,  sprung  the 
bow  and  waited  for  Lily  to  give  the  word  when 
the  guard  was  at  the  further  end  of  his  beat. 

"Shoot  sure  and  quick,"  came  the  word. 

The  archer  stood  for  a  moment  immovable, 
but  the  bow  bent  slowly  and  steadily  by  hi? 
strong  arm.  Suddenly  there  was  a  sharp  twang 
as  the  tension  was  released.  The  arrow  sped 
forth  with  a  hiss  and  all  eyes  were  directed  witli 


The  Red  Silk  Ladder.  153 

close  attention  to  the  window.  Almost  at  the 
same  time  as  the  twang  of  the  string,  a  shadow 
spread  through  the  frame  of  light.  Shortly 
after,  the  light  in  the  window  was  darkened  for 
an  instant. 

"He  understands,  now  let's  prepare  the  other 
arrow  here  is  the  file." 

"The  shaft  was  neatly  hollowed  out  and  the 
file  placed  in  it  and  tightly  bound  by  a  silk  cord. 
This  was  the  hardest  test  of  the  Swiss's  skill ;  but 
he  never  wavered  and  strung  the  arrow  in  his 
bow  and  prepared  to  fire.  The  sentry  had  just, 
passed  when  Lily  gave  the  word.  The  twang  of 
the  string  sounded  again  and  the  arrow  went 
whistling  through  the  air  with  a  clearly  audible 
hum,  and  entered  the  window.  The  sentry 
stopped  and  looked  about  him,  for  he  had  heard 
the  noise,  but  by  this  time  the  lightning  began 
to  play  and  the  thunder  rolled  louder  at  regular 
intervals,  so  he  soon  dismissed  all  suspicion. 

"There  is  the  signal,  he  has  it  all  right,"  cried 
FranQois. 

"]STow  we  must  wait  for  the  signal  for  the  third 
arrow,  but  the  elements  are  going  to  war  against 
us.  It  is  good  that  the  string  is  silk,  it  will  not 
be  heavy,"  said  Lily.  Large  drops  of  rain  be- 


154  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

gan  to  fall  and  the  group  sought  shelter  under 
the  nearby  trees,  where  they  still  could  command 
a  view  of  the  window. 

Up  in  the  cell,  Mario  had  been  sitting  in  a 
dejected  mood.  Plan  after  plan  had  been  re- 
volving through  his  mind  how  to  escape.  But 
his  hands  were  chained  or  undoubtedly  he  would 
have  put  some  of  them  to  test.  Fate  seemed 
against  him.  That  night  the  jailer  had  come, 
to  tell  him  that  the  Emperor  had  signed  his  death 
warrant  and  he  should  be  shot  in  the  court-yard 
below  at  sunrise.  Though  hope  was  gone,  de- 
spair never  once  showed  on  his  face,  he  was  too 
brave  to  wince  and  thanked  the  jailor  for  his 
kindness  to  inform  him  of  the  fact  and  not  to 
keep  him  in  ignorance  of  his  fate  until  he  faced 
the  soldiers,  which  was  often  the  case.  Once 
he  had  taken  up  the  pen  intending  to  confess  all 
and  disclose  his  identity  but  then  he  threw  it 
down  and  said,  "I  have  not  yet  accomplished  my 
task  and  rather  than  leave  it  unfinished  I  shall 
die  unknown."  Hardly  had  the  words  been 
spoken  when  a  deep  thud  sounded  in  the  room 
and  in  the  panel  of  the  strong  oaken  door  op- 
posite the  window,  he  saw  an  arrow  still  quiver- 
ing. With  an  exclamation  of  joy,  he  sprang  to 


The  Red  Silk  Ladder.  155 

the  door  and  withdrew  the  shaft.  "Ah  !  a  note ; 
I  thought  something  would  happen.  Lily  would 
not  leave  me  here  to  die,  if  she  could  help  it" 
and  he  read  the  note  which  we  have  heard  before. 
An  exclamation  of  joy  burst  from  him  and  he 
darkened  the  window  to  let  them  know  that  he 
had  received  the  note  and  understood  how  to 
act.  Then  he  stepped  aside  to  let  the  other  ar- 
row pass.  After  a  short  time  it  came  and  struck 
the  door  in  exactly  the  same  place.  He  then 
removed  the  file  and  set  to  work.  The  guard 
at  the  door  never  disturbed  him  and  as  the  storm 
had  now  broken  with  all  its  fury,  the  file  began 
to  grate  at  the  first  link  of  his  hand-cuffs  with 
telling  effect  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  the 
link  was  cut  through  and  his  hands  were  free  to 
act.  In  less  than  another  hour,  an  opening  wras 
made  at  the  window,  large  enough  to  allow  his 
body  to  pass  through. 

Outside,  the  watchers  could  see  him  earnestly 
at  work,  stopping  long  enough  to  let  the  guard 
pass  out  of  sight,  then  the  file  would  grate  away 
with  renewed  vigor.  Finally  the  light  was 
darkened  as  the  signal  for  the  third  arrow. 

"He  has  filed  the  bars,  now  for  the  third  ar- 
row, all  goes  well,"  said  Lily  as  she  fastened  the 


156  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

silk  thread  to  the  end  of  the  third  shaft.  They 
then  approached  almost  under  the  wall  and  the 
bowman  took  his  stand,  the  arrow  on  the  string 
and  his  bow  bent  waiting  for  Lily's  command. 

"Shoot." 

The  arrow  left  the  bow,  dragging  the  silk  cord 
after  it  like  a  tail.  Suddenly  the  tightness  of 
the  silk  loosened  and  the  thread  fell  across  the 
wall. 

"It  has  reached  all  right"  said  the  Swiss. 

"Andreas,  I  fear  not,  the  string  is  loose." 

"Just  so,  it  was  tight  until  it  struck,  the  force 
carrying  more  cord  than  is  needed.  That  is  why 
there  is  the  slack.  See  I  am  right,  there  is  the 
signal." 

Then  they  felt  a  tug  at  the  string  and  it  be- 
gan slowly  to  be  pulled  upwards.  The  silk 
ladder  of  flaming  red  was  then  attached  to  the 
end  of  the  cord  and  was  pulled  up  to  the  window 
where  Mario  was  stationed.  Then  the  light 
went  out  as  the  signal  that  he  was  ready  to 
descend. 


The  Wrong  Man.  157 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  WRONG  MAN. 

The  rain  was  now  falling  in  torrents.  Sharp 
flashes  of  lightning  came  and  died  at  regular 
intervals,  followed  by  loud  burst  of  thunder. 
Up  in  the  cell,  when  Mario  had  made  everything 
in  preparation  and  had  pulled  up  the  red  silk 
ladder,  he  fastened  it  securely  and  barricaded  the 
door  so  as  to  prevent  any  attack  from  that  part. 
Then  he  pushed  his  body  through  the  space  his 
file  had  cleared  and  placed  his  foot  on  the  first 
rung  of  the  ladder.  A  sense  of  giddiness  seized 
him,  as  he  swung  out  into  space.  The  rain 
dashed  against  his  face  and  matted  his  hair,  for 
he  wore  no  hat.  Then  he  began  slowly  to  de- 
scend, his  only  hope  was  that  the  guard  should 
not  see  him  by  the  flashes  of  lightning,  clinging 
to  the  sides  of  the  building.  In  the  shadow  of 
the  wall  Fleur  de  Lis,  Frangois  and  the  Swiss 
were  watching  in  breathless  suspense,  the  cling- 


158  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

ing  figure  as  he  was  shown  to  them  by  the  light- 
ning flashes,  suspended  between  heaven  and 
earth.  The  Swiss  had  an  arrow  strung,  closely 
watching  the  guard. 

"If  the  sentry  sees  him,  shoot  before  he  has 
time  to  challenge/'  said  Lily  in  breathless  anxi- 
ety. 

Mario  was  about  half  way  down  when  the 
guard  suddenly  stopped  his  walk  and  turned  his 
face  towards  the  building.  Just  then  a  sharp 
flash  revealed  Mario  clinging  to  the  ladder.  The 
next  moment  the  twang  of  a  string  was  heard  and 
the  guard,  without  a  cry  tumbled  into  the  court- 
yard, his  sword  clattering  on  the  stones  as  he 
fell.  Still  Mario  kept  steadily  descending  and 
finally  reached  the  ground;  but  now  a  new 
danger  presented  itself.  The  guard  failing  to 
challenge  at  the  end  of  his  beat,  created  suspi- 
cion in  the  mind  of  the  other  sentry,  who  started 
out  to  find  the  reason  of  the  non-appearance  of 
his  comrade.  Mario  had  now  crossed  the  court- 
yard and  having  heard  the  guard  fall  on  the 
stones,  guessed  the  reason  and  thought  the  coast 
clear  and  immediately  scaled  the  rough  wall. 
Just  as  he  reached  the  top  he  came  face  to  face 
with  the  other  sentry.  So  close  were  they  and 


The  Wrong  Man.  159 

so  taken  by  surprise  that  for  a  moment,  both 
stood  immovable.  Mario  was  first  to  act,  he 
was  unarmed  but  immediately  his  hands  caught 
the  man's  arms  and  pinned  them  to  his  sides  be- 
fore he  could  reach  his  sword.  A  struggle  en- 
sued. 

Hand  to  hand  they  fought,  neither  gaining  a 
point.  Mario's  companions  stood  silently  watch- 
ing the  conflict,  by  the  almost  constant  flashes  of 
lightning  but  were  unable  to  lend  any  assistance 
to  their  imperiled  master.  Finally  Mario  was 
slowly  sliding  his  hand  along  the  other's  arm. 
ISTow  he  reached  the  elbow,  but  still  the  hand 
steadily  moved  upward,  until  with  a  sudden 
lurch  it  reached  the  shoulder.  Then  with  a 
quick  spring  his  hand  clasped  the  sentry's  throat. 
Tighter  and  tighter  became  his  grip  until  the 
veins  in  the  neck  stood  out  like  whip  cords. 
Weaker  and  weaker  the  man  became,  his  strug- 
gling ceased,  his  face  was  black,  his  tongue  pro- 
truded, his  body  relaxed,  the  eyes  were  fixed, 
bulging  from  his  head,  then  the  lifeless  form 
sank  to  the  wall  with  the  death  rattle  in  his 
throat.  With  a  mocking  laugh  Mario  heaved  a 
sigh  of  relief  and  removing  the  hat  and  cloak,  he 
put  them  on,  then  stepping  over  the  prostrate 


160  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

body  he  began  to  descend  on  the  other  side  of 
the  wall  to  join  his  companions.  After  Mario 
had  reached  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  he  stopped 
for  a  moment.  A  hand  from  the  darkness  took 
his  and  led  him  to  a  clump  of  bushes,  where  his 
liberators  were  waiting  for  him.  Then  they 
mounted  hurriedly  and  started,  for  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost  as  it  would  only  be  a  short  time 
until  his  escape  would  be  discovered  and  the 
gendarmes  would  be  in  full  chase.  The  rain 
was  still  falling  but  the  lightning  and  thunder 
had  subsided.  Onward  they  urged  their  horses, 
along  the  muddy  streets.  Suddenly  there 
sounded  behind  them  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs 
in  hot  pursuit.  They  were  the  gendarmes,  com- 
ing sooner  than  expected. 

'Taster  faster,"  shouted  Mario  and  the  rowles 
of  his  spurs  dug  deeper  into  his  laboring  horse's 
flanks.  The  sound  in  the  distance  grew  nearer 
and  nearer  and  the  gendarmes  were  fast  gaining 
upon  them.  Fleur  de  Lis  was  riding  gracefully, 
urging  her  horse  with  word  and  whip.  The 
Swiss  coolly  drew  his  weapon  in  preparation  for 
the  meeting.  Every  now  and  then  Mario  would 
cry  to  them  to  follow  him  with  greater  speed. 
Suddenly,  without  warning,  Francois'  horse 


The  Wrong  Man.  161 

stumbled,  fell  to  his  knees,  rolled  over  and  was 
unable  to  rise.  Mario  seeing  his  distress,  drew 
rein  and  turned  back  to  assist  him. 

"Leave  me  my  lord;  leave  me  or  they  will 
capture  you." 

Every  moment  brought  the  gendarmes  closer. 
It  was  too  late.  They  were  upon  them.  There 
was  clanking  of  swords,  cries  of  pain  and  curses. 
But  an  awful  mistake  was  being  made.  Hav- 
ing seen  the  man  fall  from  his  horse  and  the 
others  turn  back,  they  felt  certain  that  it  was 
Mario  who  had  been  unseated,  for  they  felt  that 
this  dare-devil  would  not  stop  to  save  another 
man's  life  at  the  risk  of  his  own  and  so  they 
paid  but  little  attention  to  the  man  who  was  play- 
ing so  much  havoc  about  them,  in  endeavoring  to 
capture  the  unseated  rider.  Mario  and  the  rest 
of  the  band,  seeing  that  all  hope  for  Frangois 
was  cut  off,  fought  their  way  through  the  circle 
and  dashed  away  at  full  speed.  The  gendarmes 
paid  little  attention  to  them,  but  directed  all 
their  energy  in  capturing  Frangois,  who  strug- 
gled gracefully,  drawing  with  his  arm  his  cloak, 
more  and  more  about  his  face  so  that  they  would 
not  recognize  him,  in  order  to  give  Mario  time 

to  get  a  greater  distance  between  them.     His 
n 


1 62  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

plan  was  succeeding  admirably  and  at  last  he 
surrendered.  He  was  blindfolded  in  the  dark- 
ness and  still  holding  his  cloak  about  his  face,  he 
was  mounted  on  a  horse  and  guarded  by  the 
gendarmes,  was  conveyed  toward  the  chateau. 
As  they  reached  the  court-yard  it  was  almost 
day. 

They  forced  him  to  dismount,  led  him  to  the 
rear  of  the  building  and  forced  him  to  stand 
and  wait  their  further  pleasure.  Never  once  did 
they  doubt  that  they  did  have  the  mysterious 
man  in  the  red  cloak. 

In  silence,  save  for  the  echo  of  the  foot-steps 
of  the  sentry  set  to  watch  him,  Francois  stood 
waiting  for  the  time  to  disclose  himself;  only 
when  he  was  certain  that  all  capture  of  Mario 
was  out  of  the  question.  In  the  distance  after 
a  short  time,  he  heard  the  regular  step  of  a  squad 
of  soldiers  approaching  him.  He  heard  the  dull 
thud  of  a  pick  at  work.  But  never  once  did  he 
realize  that  he  was  playing  his  game  too  far. 
Then  he  heard  the  order  of  a  captain,  he  heard 
the  click  of  musketry,  he  straightened  up  and 
the  realization  of  what  was  going  on  about  him, 
suddenly  flashed  through  his  mind,  but  it  was 
too  late.  There  was  another  sharp  order,  there 


The  Wrong  Man.  163 

was  a  terrible  roar  and  Frangois  fell  forward 
his  breast  pierced  by  many  bullets. 

A  detail  of  three  or  four  men  were  left  to 
place  his  remains  in  the  grave  that  had  been 
dug  for  them.  As  they  drew  the  cloak  from  the 
man's  face,  there  was  an  awful  expression  of 
horror  and  terror  depicted  in  the  features  now 
becoming  cold  and  rigid.  With  a  cry  they 
sprang  back.  It  was  the  wrong  man. 


164  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"THEN   SIRE   I  DISOBEY." 

Paris  was  in  a  state  of  excitement  at  the  an- 
nouncement of  Mario's  escape.  The  Emperor's 
followers  were  sullen  and  fearful.  The  Bour- 
bons received  the  news  in  joyous  silence.  In 
the  few  days  that  followed,  the  news  of  Mario's 
escape  was  felt  and  confirmed  more  strongly  by 
this  character's  actions  and  achievements.  This 
mysterious  dare-devil  was  working  harder  than 
ever  before.  He  would  make  his  appearance  it 
seemed,  at  places  where  he  was  least  expected, 
striking  here  and  there  but,  always  single- 
handed.  He  was  a  valuable  tool  in  the  hands 
of  the  king  and  the  allied  forces.  Not  a  bit  of 
information  ever  escaped  him.  He  would  enter 
an  enemy's  camp,  converse  with  the  soldiers, 
plan  with  the  generals,  but  always  to  his  own 
advantage.  The  name  of  Mario  was  better 
known.  It  was  feared  from  the  lowest  private 


"Then  Sire  I  Disobey."  165 

to  the  Emperor  himself.  If  ever  a  messenger 
was  found  dead,  the  name  of  Mario  and  the  sight 
of  the  man  in  the  red  cloak,  with  his  devilish 
grinning  face  would  flash  through  every  mind. 
If  a  courier  was  so  fortunate  as  to  return,  after 
having  met  him,  all  that  he  could  say,  was  that 
his  orders  were  gone  and  that  the  man  in  the 
red  cloak  had  taken  them.  He  would  enter  a 
camp  at  day-break,  disguised  of  course,  stay  all 
day,  gain  information,  leave  late  at  night  by 
some  sleeping  sentry's  post,  and  then  to  make 
him  sleep  sounder,  the  sentry  would  be  found  the 
next  morning  with  a  dagger  in  his  breast  with  a 
dainty  red  bow  tied  to  the  hilt.  The  bow  of 
ribbon,  always  red,  answered  all  questions  and 
left  no  doubt  as  to  who  had  committed  the 
deed. 

A  reward  had  been  placed  upon  his  head  but 
every  one  smiled  at  the  idea  of  taking  this  dare- 
devil and  no  one  cared  to  measure  swords  with 
him  because  they  said,  that  his  sword  could  al- 
ways reach  just  twice  as  far  as  theirs.  So  a  few 
days  passed.  It  was  now  the  last  days  of  May 
and  Napoleon  was  fast  losing  his  prestige.  The 
coalition  consisting  of  England,  Austria,  Prussia 
and  Sweden  as  we  have  said  before,  was  formed, 


1 66  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

and  so  far  had  been  very  successful.  Welling- 
ton was  at  the  head  of  the  forces  and  the  king 
had  retired  to  Ghent  to  await  results.  Mario  was 
at  the  Chateau  de  Nuit,  while  Lily  went  to  the 
King's  hiding  place.  It  was  now  evident  that 
there  would  be  a  battle  which  would  soon  settle 
all  strife,  for  both  sides  were  now  massing  their 
forces,  by  marching  into  Belgium.  General 
Grouchy  had  been  detached  with  about  thirty- 
four  thousand  men  to  detain  Bliicher  and  both 
Generals  were  now  near  Chateau  de  Nuit,  closely 
watching  each  other's  actions.  Then  a  week  in 
June  wore  away  and  orders  were  given  to 
Grouchy  to  detain  Bliicher,  then  defeat  him  in 
battle,  then  to  join  Napoleon,  who  was  now  near 
Waterloo. 

One  evening  the  King  was  sitting  in  a  room  of 
the  chateau.  He  was  musing,  idly  drumming 
on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  lost  in  a  dream,  absently 
looking  through  the  open  door,  through  which 
the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  streaming. 
Silently  he  sat  for  some  time  and  dusk  was 
slowly  falling.  Suddenly,  the  silhouette  of  a 
woman  was  seen,  outlined  against  the  rosy  sky. 
It  was  Fleur  de  Lis.  Her  face  was  flushed  and 
excitement  was  plainly  written  on  her  features. 


"Then  Sire  I  Disobey."  167 

Bowing  to  the  "King  she  said:  "Sire,  I  have 
news." 

"From  "Wellington?"  he  asked  looking  to- 
wards her. 

"Yes  and  he  says,  that  we  must  act  quickly. 
Napoleon  is  now  near  Waterloo  and  a  clash  is 
inevitable.  General  Grouchy  has  been  detached 
to  keep  Bliicher  in  check.  Wellington  desires 
that  by  some  means,  Grouchy  must  be  detained, 
so  as  to  let  Bliicher  join  him." 

"But  how  shall  this  be  accomplished,  we  have 
but  little  time  and  Grouchy  may  be  marching 
now?  Perhaps  by  false  orders?" 

"That  may  do.  But  at  any  rate  Mario  must 
know  and  at  once.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost; 
he  must  understand  Wellington's  orders." 

"But  there  is  no  one  to  carry  the  order, 
Francois  is  not  here.  We  must  wait  for  him 
to  return." 

"Sire  Francois  will  never  come." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"He  was  killed  at  Paris,  because  he  was  mis- 
taken for  Mario." 

"Poor  fellow!  Do  you  know  Fleur  de  Lis, 
that  he  was  a  brave  man,  a  good  friend,  a  good 
companion,  and  there  were  none  better  or  more 
loyal  in  serving  his  king.  I  regret  this  very 


1 68  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

much;  but  such  is  the  fate  of  one  who  follows 
the  wars"  said  the  King,  and  he  again  resumed 
the  revery  he  had  been  in  before  Fleur  de  Lis 
came,  and  a  large  tear  was  brushed  from  his  eye. 

"But  Sire  we  must  act,  and  at  once"  said  Fleur 
de  Lis  disturbing  the  silence. 

"I  know  not  what  to  do;  I  have  none  here 
that  I  can  trust  with  the  order,  it  will  have  to 
wait." 

"To  wait  may  cost  you  your  throne,  we  must 
act,  or  all  may  be  lost,  there  is  but  one  who  can 
carry  that  order." 

"Who?" 

"Louis  the  Eighteenth  must  carry  that  order 
or  sacrifice  his  throne." 

"I?     Lily  you  are  mad." 

"I  may  be  Sire,  but  that  is  all  that  will  save 
your  throne,  for  if  Grouchy  joins  Napoleon  all 
will  be  lost.  Sire  will  you  go  ?" 

"No.     I  shall  trust  to  fate." 

"Fate  seldom  favors  cowards.  Sire  will  you 
go?" 

"No;  I  shall  wait,  life  is  more  precious  than 
a  kingdom.  I  would  rather  lose." 

"No,  Sire  you  shall  not  lose.  I  will  deliver 
the  order." 

"You  shall  not," 


"Then  Sire  I  Disobey."  169 

"Your  success  demands  it.     I  will  go." 

"You  shall  not,  I  command  you." 

"Then  Sire,  I  disobey,"  and  she  disappeared 
through  the  door.  Soon  a  clatter  of  hoofs  was 
heard  and  Louis  nervously  paced  the  floor,  every 
now  and  then  approaching  the  window.  Lily 
rode  hard  and  in  due  time,  just  as  dusk  was 
settling  about  the  forest,  she  came  in  sight  of  the 
chateau.  She  knew  that  the  place  was  guarded, 
so  she  decided  to  take  the  tunnel.  Her  horse 
was  now  covered  with  foam ;  the  night  was  grow- 
ing dark  and  she  cautiously  rode  up  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  tunnel. 

Although  he  was  in  ignorance  of  the  fact,  a 
guard  was  standing  not  more  than  a  few  yards 
from  its  entrance.  Lily  had  advanced  and  see- 
ing the  danger  turned  and  started  in  the  opposite 
direction,  urging  on  the  tired  beast.  The  guard 
challenged  and  seeing  the  figure  flee,  leveled  his 
gun  and  fired,  but  Lily  went  on  untouched. 
She  now  tried  the  next,  but  advanced  more  cau- 
tiously this  time  but  met  with  the  same  result, 
only  a  little  closer  call,  for  the  ball  passed 
through  the  rim  of  her  hat.  There  was  no  use 
to  try  the  tunnels,  there  was  a  guard  at  every 
fifty  yards,  so  she  withdrew  a  distance  to  think 
of  some  plan. 


170  The  Clash  of  Steel 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

A  WAKNING  IN  TIME. 

In  the  window  of  the  banquet  hall  she  could 
see  a  light  burning  and  felt  that  Mario  was  there. 
She  also  wondered  if  he  knew  how  closely  his 
chateau  was  guarded,  for  already  Grouchy  be- 
gan to  suspect  that  the  Lord  of  Chateau  de  Nuit 
and  Mario  were  one  and  the  same  person.  She 
knew  that  he  must  be  warned  and  also  that  he 
must  have  the  order,  so  she  decided  upon  a  bold 
stroke.  She  would  make  a  dash  for  the  main 
gate  of  the  court-yard  and  try  to  surprise  the 
guard.  Once  within  the  enclosure  she  would 
be  safe,  for  the  danger  lay  in  passing  the  line. 
So  she  slowly  cantered  about  the  building  until 
on  a  direct  line  with  the  gate.  Then  she  dis- 
mounted and  took  off  her  outer  skirt  and  tore  it 
into  four  pieces.  Then  she  tore  up  some  grass 
and  filled  each  piece  of  cloth  and  bound  one  on 
each  of  the  horse's  hoofs.  Then  she  took  her 


A  Warning  in  Time.  171 

pistol  in  hand  and  sent  the  tired  beast  forward 
with  a  bound.  The  horse  made  little  noise  with 
his  muffled  hoofs  and  she  rode  furiously.  When 
about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  gate  she  un- 
expectedly ran  aside  of  two  guards,  who  had 
been  carrying  on  a  conversation.  Like  an  arrow 
she  was  past  them,  but  they  had  heard  her  com- 
ing for  she  was  so  close  to  them.  They  did  not 
wait  to  challenge,  but  fired  at  the  disappearing 
figure.  Lily  leaned  forward  in  the  saddle,  over 
the  horse's  neck  and  the  first  ball  sped  wide  its 
mark,  but  the  next  struck  above  the  temple,  just 
grazing  the  skull  and  leaving  a  furrow  in  the 
flesh,  from  which  the  blood  flowed  furiously. 

She  reeled  in  the  saddle  for  a  moment  but  still 
remained  conscious,  slightly  benumbed  by  the 
blow.  Still  she  rode  on.  There  was  a  numb- 
ness about  her  head  and  a  sense  of  giddiness  over- 
came her  mind  but  she  remained  seated,  brush- 
ing away  with  her  arm  the  blood  which  blinded 
her.  After  a  few  moments  she  reached  the 
court-yard  and  dismounting  she  set  the  horse 
free.  At  the  door  the  old  gray  haired  man  met 
her  but  she  brushed  him  aside  and  mounted  the 
stairs.  Her  head  was  whirling  and  she  stag- 
gered on,  the  wound  in  her  head  bleeding  furi- 


172  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

ously,  covering  her  face.  Mario  was  sitting  in 
a  chair  in  a  state  of  study.  As  he  heard  her 
enter  he  raised  his  head.  Lily  staggered  to  the 
table  for  support.  Her  lips  had  lost  their  color 
and  her  voice  was  weak. 

"Mario  the  chateau  is  guarded  on  all  sides,  be 
careful,"  she  was  reeling  and  she  wiped  away 
the  blood  from  her  eyes. 

'1  come  from  the  King  and  bring  orders  from 
Wellington.  Grouchy,  Grouchy,"  her  voice 
was  choked  and  her  hand  trembled  with  weak- 
ness. "Grouchy  you  must  detain — ,"  and  be- 
fore he  could  reach  her  she  fell  heavily  to  the 
floor.  Mario  and  the  old  man  rushed  to  her. 
"Gaston  call  one  of  the  monks."  The  man 
obeyed  and  descended  the  steps.  "She  is  a  true 
good  girl  and  could  I  love — ."  Mario  mur- 
mured ;  but  the  old  man  entering  with  the  priest, 
cut  short  his  musings. 

"Take  care  of  her,  my  Father.  Remove  her 
to  a  secret  chamber,  she  is  wounded  in  the  head, 
spare  no  care  to  restore  her  as  speedily  as  you 
can."  Mario  and  the  priest  then  carried  her  to 
the  secret  chamber,  lighted  by  the  old  tottering 
man. 

The  next  day  was  the  14th  of  June  and  it 


A  Warning  in  Time.  173 

wore  itself  away  and  night  set  in  with  a  drench- 
ing rain  and  high  wind,  that  whistled  and 
moaned  in  the  tree  tops,  driving  dark  banks  of 
clouds  from  the  west,  giving  promise  of  a  wild 
night  of  thunder  storm.  For  days  both 
Grouchy's  forces  and  those  of  Bliicher  lay 
quietly,  only  now  and  then  a  skirmish  or  a  picket 
shot  at  his  post  by  some  sharp-shooter. 

One  cannot  tell  what  the  dice  of  fate  will 
decide.  Misfortune's  strokes  are  sharp  and  give 
no  warning,  they  are  like  lightning,  first  blind 
the  victim  then  strike,  leaving  only  blackened 
hopes.  Some  people  are  doomed  to  misfortune 
and  always  follow  its  dictations.  One  of  this 
class  was  General  Grouchy  and  just  at  this 
period,  he  was  singled  out,  to  make  the  mistake 
which  has  changed  the  fate  of  the  world  and  will 
be  talked  about  for  ages  and  ages. 

He  decided  upon  a  bold  stroke.  That  night 
he  had  intended  to  attack  Chateau  de  Nuit,  take 
its  lord,  whom  he  suspected  to  be  Mario,  then 
he  would  return  late  that  same  night  and  attack 
Bliicher.  Then  when  he  had  defeated  him  in 
battle,  he  would  march  on  and  join  Napoleon, 
who  was  now  near  Waterloo,  where  it  was  but  a 
question  of  a  short  time  when  a  conflict  would 
take  place, 


174  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

With  a  detachment  of  fifty  cavalrymen,  he 
set  out  wrapped  deep  in  his  cloak  to  ward  off  the 
drenching  rain.  It  was  just  the  kind  of  night 
to  make  his  secret  arrest  and  then  his  bold  at- 
tack, but  fortune  also  had  a  hand  in  the  game. 
They  struck  an  easy  canter,  it  being  very  hard 
for  the  horses  to  make  much  headway  over  the 
soggy  ground.  The  rain  had  died  down  into  a 
steady  drizzle,  but  the  clouds  growing  darker  on 
the  horizon  and  an  occasional  mutter  of  thunder, 
gave  the  assurance  that  nature  promised  a  war 
of  the  elements. 

He  reached  and  entered  the  court-yard  with 
a  rush.  He  dismounted  and  knocked  heavily  on 
the  strong  wooden  door.  A  voice  within  called 
out:  "Who  is  there?" 

"Open  and  you  shall  see"  cried  Grouchy  in 
harsh  tones  not  enjoying  the  rush  of  the  wind 
and  hoping  to  take  the  place  by  surprise,  rather 
than  by  force.  The  door  slowly  swung  open  and 
an  old  gray  haired  man,  stood  holding  a  flaming 
torch  high  in  air. 

"Is  your  Lord  here?" 

"Xo  Monsieur,  he  has  gone  on  to  Paris." 

"Come  that  lie  may  cost  you  your  head.  Re- 
veal his  whereabouts  or  you  are  lost." 


A  Warning  in  Time.  175 

"I  ani  telling  the  truth,"  said  the  old  man 
very  firmly. 

"What  proof  can  you  give  ?" 

"Search,"  said  the  old  man. 

"These  chateaux  often  have  secret  hiding 
places,  but  should  he  be  -found  in  the  building, 
that  lie  will  be  your  condemnation.  Your  old 
withering  body  shall  grace  the  boughs  of  some 
old  oak  out  yonder,"  said  Grouchy  as  he  began  to 
search. 

The  General  watched  him  closely  as  his  men 
began  to  search  the  building,  but  the  old  gray 
haired  man  still  retained  that  same  firmness, 
which  seemed  to  make  him  half  believe,  that  the 
old  man  told  the  truth.  Search  where  they 
would,  no  one  could  they  find  in  the  building, 
but  the  old  man  who  admitted  them,  and  he 
looked  on  in  silence  as  doors  were  torn  open  and 
the  house  ransacked  in  general. 

Grouchy  was  baf&ed.  He  knew  not  what  to 
do.  Finally  he  concluded  to  remain  an  hour  or 
so,  as  he  thought  that  possibly  the  spy  might  re- 
turn in  the  meantime  and  as  he  did  not  care  to 
encounter  the  storm,  which  would  soon  burst  in 
all  its  fury.  He  had  an  abundance  of  time, 
for  he  would  not  attack  Bliicher  until  midnight, 


176  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

so  he  thought  that  he  might  as  well  spend  the 
time  in  a  comfortable  place  and  enjoy  a  good 
meal. 

His  men  were  made  comfortable  in  the  base- 
ment, while  he  mounted  the  steps  to  the  hall  on 
the  second  floor  and  ordered  the  old  man  to 
bring  a  supper  and  build  a  fire  in  the  huge  fire- 
place, in  order  to  dry  his  wet  clothes.  This  the 
old  man  did,  bringing  him  a  good  meal  and  set- 
ting a  flask  of  wine  on  the  table,  he  left  without 
a  word.  Then  he  sat  at  the  table  and  ate  and 
drank,  never  once  giving  it  a  thought,  that  the 
wine  might  be  drugged.  He  could  hear  his  men 
down  below,  bumping  their  glasses,  praising  the 
wine  of  the  Lord  of  Chateau  de  ISTuit  and  crying 
loudly  for  more.  He  finished  his  meal  and  pull- 
ing a  great  arm  chair  before  the  hearth,  sat 
smoking  a  cigarette  and  gazing  about  him. 

The  room  of  massive  dimensions,  was  but  illy 
lighted  by  a  candelabrum  on  the  table  and  the 
fire-light  in  the  grate  cast  fitful  figures  on  the 
high  and  rough  looking  ceiling.  On  the  walls 
hung  massive  paintings  of  soldiers,  probably 
ancestors  of  some  of  the  lords  of  the  chateau. 
The  room  had  an  uncanny  wierd  appearance,  but 
to  a  soldier  these  things  appear  for  a  moment, 


A  Warning  in  Time.  177 

only  for  a  moment  and  then  pass  away.  How 
slowly  an  hour  passed.  He  looked  at  his  watch 
and  saw  that  it  was  nearly  half  past  nine.  By 
midnight  he  meant  to  have  Bliicher  defeated 
and  then  be  on  his  way  to  Napoleon.  Drawing 
a  chair  to  the  table,  which  had  been  cleared  by 
the  old  man,  with  pen  and  paper  he  began  to 
plan  his  movements  against  Bliicher  and  soon  be- 
came so  interested  in  his  work  that  he  began  to 
murmur  aloud  as  he  planned. 

Slowly  he  began  to  become  drowsy  and  to 
arouse  himself,  he  began  to  pace  the  floor. 
Often,  he  would  stop  and  be  aroused  from  his 
reveries,  by  what  seemed  to  be  the  penetrating- 
gaze  of  a  pair  of  sharp  eyes.  His  drowsiness 
steadily  increased  and  soon  he  became  so  sleepy, 
that  he  fell  in  the  chair,  still  standing  before  the 
hearth,  over  which  hung  a  huge  picture  of  some 
noble  ancestor.  Soon  he  fell  asleep. 


12 


iy8  The  Clash  of  Steel. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

VICTORY  AND  DEATH. 

Only  a  few  moments  seemed  to  have  passed, 
when  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the  clock 
in  the  tower  striking  eleven.  The  drowsiness 
had  not  completely  left  him.  He  stretched  and 
yawning  said:  "I  must  go,  or  by  midnight 
BKicher  will  be  on  his  way  to  Wellington,"  and 
he  started  to  arise. 

"Do  not  go  yet,"  said  a  stern  voice  as  slowly 
the  great  picture  over  the  fire-place  swung  back. 
A  strong  well-built  cavalier,  stood  behind  in  a 
niche  in  the  wall  which  led  to  a  secret  passage- 
way. Grouchy  rubbed  his  eyes  and  tried  to 
convince  himself  that  he  was  only  dreaming,  and 
that  perhaps  the  drug  in  the  wine  had  forced  the 
delirium.  He  reached  for  his  weapon,  but  be- 
fore eating,  he  had  lain  aside  all  his  arms  on  the 
table,  many  feet  away.  The  man  stood  like  a 
statue,  his  head  erect,  his  eyes  sparkling  and  a 


Victory  and  Death.  179 

malicious  smile  playing  about  his  lips.  At  his 
side  he  wore  his  sword,  which  clanked  loudly  as 
he  climbed  from  the  niche  in  the  wall,  never 
once  removing  his  eyes  from  those  of  the  Gen- 
eral, pushing  the  picture  back  into  place  as  he 
did  so. 

It  was  Mario. 

The  General  was  dumbfounded.  He  could 
not  move.  With  what  grace  Mario  seated  him- 
self in  a  chair  near  the  General.  The  malicious 
smile  never  left  his  face,  but  seemed  to  mock  his 
captive  in  his  misery.  At  last  the  General  found 
his  speech. 

"I  have  come  to  arrest  you  sir." 

"On  what  grounds?" 

"That  you  are  a  spy." 

Mario  only  smiled.  "But  before  going  away 
to  captivity  and  death,  let  us  have  a  little  con- 
versation." 

The  General  did  not  dare  to  move  for  Mario's 
hand  touched  his  sword  at  the  least  stir  he  made. 
Thus  they  sat  talking,  while  time  rolled  on,  and 
Grouchy  upon  whom  Napoleon's  fate  rested  was 
utterly  helpless.  Mario  seemed  to  delight  in 


180  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

his  misery,  for  he  watched  his  anxiety  with  pleas- 
ure. The  rain  began  to  swish  against  the  win- 
dows and  loud  bursts  of  thunder  vibrated 
through  the  great  hall,  while  flashes  of  lightning 
seemed  to  cleave  the  heaven's  breast  and  make 
the  world  as  light  as  day  for  an  instant. 

"Napoleon  and  Wellington  will  soon  meet 
who  will  be  the  victor?"  Mario  tauntingly 
asked. 

"Napoleon"  said  the  General  sullenly. 

"Were  you  not  to  attack  Bliicher  and  then 
join  Napoleon?" 

"I  intend  to  attack  him  tonight." 

"You  have  not  much  time.  He  leaves  to  join 
Wellington  at  midnight." 

Things  were  getting  desperate,  great  drops 
of  sweat  stood  on  the  General's  forehead.  Some- 
thing must  be  done  he  thought.  Already  the 
clock  was  striking  the  quarter  before  twelve. 
The  storm  still  raged  in  unabated  fury  and 
flashes  of  lightning  came  and  died  at  regular 
intervals.  Grouchy  could  bear  it  no  longer. 
He  arose  suddenly  and  Mario  did  likewise  and 
facing  the  General  began: 

"There  is  but  one  way.  You  have  me  in  your 
power  and  I  have  you  in  mine.  I  am  a  spy  in 


Victory  and  Death.  181 

the  hands  of  "Wellington  and  the  King.  Your 
men  are  drugged  on  the  floor  below  and  of  the 
same  wine  you  drank,  but  not  as  much  as  they. 
Come"  said  he  never  once  removing  his  glance, 
"to  this  balcony." 

The  General  obeyed  him  and  stepped  out  into 
the  cool  air,  hoping  that  by  surprise  he  might 
strangle  Mario;  but  he  had  probably  foreseen 
this  for  he  kept  the  General  at  a  sword's  dis- 
tance. The  rain  drove  against  their  faces  and 
the  thunder  rolled  with  a  deafening  noise,  that 
shook  the  whole  building.  A  clear  piercing  note 
of  a  bugle  sounded  in  the  distance  and  just  then 
the  heavens  opened  with  a  glaring  light  and 
revealed  a  line  of  struggling  cavalry  and  cannon, 
laboring  through  the  mud  and  rain.  . 

Mario  stood  with  his  hand  out-stretched,  point- 
ing to  the  struggling  mass  which  the  lightning 
had  shown  the  amazed  General.  That  same 
ghastly  smile  played  across  his  features  and  his 
eyes  glittered  with  a  malicious  light.  Grouchy 
was  desperate.  He  felt  that  there  might  still 
be  time  enough  for  him  to  reach  his  camp  and 
overtake  Bliicher.  Suddenly  Mario  turned  to 
him  and  said:  "I  will  give  you  one  chance. 
By  midnight  the  last  soldier  will  have  left 


1 82  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

Blucher's  camp.  You  still  have  time  enough  to 
overtake  him.  Come,  we,  will  fight  the  battle 
which  shall  decide  the  fate  of  nations." 

He  took  from  the  wall  an  old  pair  of  rapiers 
that  showed  a  stain  of  blood.  He  gave  the 
choice  and  Grouchy  selected. 

"Come,"  said  the  General  "on  guard." 
Mario  did  not  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry,  but 
slowly  raised  his  rapier,  letting  the  blade  slide 
through  his  hand  until  it  bent  in  an  arch  above 
his  head,  never  once  removing  his  eyes  from 
those  of  the  General,  he  suddenly  loosed  the 
blade,  which  released  from  its  tension  hissed 
through  the  air  and  struck  the  guard  with  a 
ringing  click.  The  wind  moaned  dolefully 
around  the  old  building,  loud  peals  of  thunder 
rolled  along  the  heavens  and  the  lightning 
seemed  to  play  on  their  blades  as  they  slid  along 
each  other  with  a  rasping  sound.  Now  Mario 
thrusts  and  the  General  parries;  now  the  General 
lunges  and  Mario  guards:  but  neither  gains  a 
point.  Mario  was  fighting  for  time,  wrhile 
Grouchy  was  battling  with  despair  to  save  his 
commander  from  defeat.  Time  went  on ;  slowly 
but  surely  Mario  was  forcing  him  step  by  step 
to  the  wall  as  they  slowly  circled  around  the 


Victory  and  Death.  183 

room.  Nearer  and  nearer  his  blade  came  to 
the  heart  at  every  stroke.  Mario  was  a  master 
hand  at  the  art  and  never  did  he  show  himself  to 
better  advantage.  Never  once  did  that  smile 
leave  his  face  or  his  eye  lose  its  brightness. 
Their  breath  came  hard  and  heavy,  a  loud  peal 
of  thunder  died  away  in  the  distance,  just  as  the 
clock  in  the  tower  tolled  the  hour  of  midnight. 
A  low  laugh  broke  from  Mario  and  through  his 
labored  breathing  he  hissed  "it  is  too  late; 
Napoleon  is  defeated." 

The  General  began  to  despair  and  felt  that 
it  would  be  better  to  throw  aside  his  rapier  and 
let  him  kill  him,  than  to  meet  his  disgrace.  The 
fate  of  his  commander  depended  on  a  stroke, 
and  a  bold  one  and  he  again  took  heart.  But 
should  that  stroke  fail,  all  would  be  lost.  He 
watched  and  soon  an  opportunity  presented  itself, 
either  Mario  felt  too  certain  that  the  affair  would 
end  in  his  favor,  or  now  because  he  was  so  sure 
of  Napoleon's  defeat  and  that  he  had  gained  his 
point,  he  became  reckless.  With  a  quick  rasp- 
ing stroke  the  General  sent  Mario's  rapier  hissing 
across  the  room,  and  his  blade  sank  deep  in  his 
heart.  He  released  his  hold  on  the  rapier  and 
Mario  slowly  tottered,  swayed,  staggered  and 


184  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

fell  in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  the  weapon  still  quiver- 
ing in  his  breast. 

Grouchy  did  not  wait  for  his  hat  or  cloak  but 
started  for  the  door  with  a  bound.  A  figure 
barred  his  way.  It  was  the  old  tottering,  gray 
haired  man  and  in  his  hand  he  held  a  long 
glittering  knife.  Mario  now  writhing  in  agony, 
raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  turned  his  glassy 
eyes  to  the  door  and  saw  the  old  man  raising  the 
knife. 

"Let  him  pass  Gaston;  let  him  pass.  It  is  too 
late  Napoleon  has  lost  and  I  have  won,"  and 
he  again  sank  to  the  floor  writhing  in  his  blood. 
The  old  man  reluctantly  lowered  the  knife  and 
stepped  aside  to  let  Grouchy  pass. 

Mario's  life  was  fast  ebbing  and  he  called  for 
a  priest.  Soon  the  old  man  returned  with  a 
monk  who  knelt  beside  the  dying  man.  His 
speech  was  now  broken  and  weak;  but  he  still 
wore  the  smile  of  triumph. 

"Father  are  you  here,  I  cannot  see.  Come 
closer." 

"I  am  right  by  your  side,  what  is  your  wish? 
Shall  we  remove  the  rapier?" 

"No,  no,  let  it  be,  it  ends  a  life  of  misery  and 
trouble.  My  work  is  finished,  now  let  me  die  in 
peace." 


Victory  and  Death.  185 

His  eyes  were  glassy  and  his  mind  wandered. 
He  was  continually  reaching  with  his  trembling 
hand  to  his  breast  as  if  in  search  of  something. 
His  lips  were  pale  and  trembled  as  he  spoke. 

"Father  in  my  doublet,  near  my  heart,  quick, 
quick  I  cannot  live  long." 

The  priest  hastily  opened  the  doublet  and  saw 
hanging  to  a  golden  chain  a  locket  which  was 
now  covered  with  blood.  This  he  removed  from 
the  dying  man's  neck.  "Weaker  and  weaker 
Mario's  voice  became.  Suddenly,  he  staggered 
to  his  feet.  He  seized  the  rapier  which  had 
fallen  from  his  hand,  and  assuming  a  position  for 
attack,  his  eyes  flashing,  he  began  to  lunge  and 
parry  and  retreat,  staggering  with  weakness. 
"Come  on,  come  on,  I'll  fight  you  now  to  the 
end,  here's  where  I  gain  my  victory  of 
vengeance  or  I  die  without  it.  Go  back  to  her 
Napoleon,  go  back  to  her  defeated,  disgraced, 
dishonored.  You  have  won  in  one  battle,  you 
have  gained  the  spoils  of  one  victory,  but  I  now 
have  mine.  Come  on"  he  shouted,  "come  on, 
our  score  is  almost  settled.  Go  back  to  her  and 
tell  her  that  you  have  lost;  you  have  lost  to  me, 
to  me  the — "  he  tottered,  struggled  to  raise  from 
his  knees  on  which  he  had  fallen,  but  death  was 


1 86  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

conquering  him  and  he  fell  to  the  floor.  Then 
he  raised  his  head,  a  calmness  had  come  over  him 
and  the  film  was  already  on  his  eye. 

"Take  that  my  Father,  just  as  it  is  to  the 
Empress  Maria  Louisa.  You  are  a  monk,  you 
will  gain  admittance.  Tell  her  that  I  the 
count — "  A  shudder  passed  over  his  body  his 
eyes  became  fixed  and  Mario  was  dead,  without 
giving  his  name  to  the  listening  monk,  but  he 
knew  his  commission. 


A  Mystery  Revealed.  187 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  MYSTERY  REVEALED. 

Some  time  after  a  monk  called  upon  the  de- 
throned Empress  and  asked  for  an  audience. 
This  was  gained  and  he  entered  a  room  finely 
furnished  and  a  woman  approached  him  and 
bowed  low. 

"What  do  you  desire,  my  good  Father?" 

"My  lady,  I  come  with  a  strange  message  and 
my  duty  is  indeed  hard  for  me  to  bear.  But  I 
never  fail  to  fulfill  a  dying  man's  last  request." 

"A  dying  man?     But  who  can  he  be?" 

"A  character  strange  and  mysterious  and 
although  I  have  been  with  him  for  some  time, 
he  has  seemed  to  me  more  of  fanciful  or  super- 
natural creation." 

"But  his  name?" 

"I  knew  him  by  many.     Mario." 

"Mario?" 

"Yes  my  lady,  the  man  in  the  red  cloak." 


1 88  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

"But  what  does  this  concern  me?" 

"He  sends  a  message." 

"To  me?" 

"Yes  to  you  and  desired  me  to  give  unto  you 
this  locket,  which  was  about  his  neck  and  is  dyed 
with  his  blood,  which  he  shed  for  the  King,  but  I 
should  judge  more  for  revenge." 

The  woman  took  the  locket.  It  was  covered 
with  stains  of  blood,  which  the  monk  had  not 
erased.  It  was  beautifully  set  with  diamonds 
and  rubies.  She  idly,  as  in  a  dream  turned  it 
over  and  over  in  her  hands.  She  then  opened  it 
and  staggered  to  a  chair  for  support  an  exclama- 
tion breaking  from  her  lips,  "Eugene."  After 
awhile  she  regained  her  self-possession. 

"But  how  did  he  die  my  Father?" 

"By  the  sword." 

"At  whose  hands?" 

"General  Grouchey's  of  Napoleon's  army." 

"He  is  a  traitor.     He  failed  to  appear." 

"He  failed  to  appear  Madame,  but  he  is  no 
traitor;  he  was  detained." 

"By  Mario?" 

"Yes." 

"My  Father  I  am  about  to  tell  you  a  story, 
which  I  trust  you  shall  never  breathe  to  another 


A  Mystery  Revealed.  189 

living  being.  You  are  in  mystery  and  doubt  as 
to  who  this  strange  man  was.  As  you  will  re- 
member when  I  was  a  princess  at  the  court  of 
Austria,  my  hand  was  sought  by  Xapoleon.  I 
accepted  his  suit  and  joined  iny  life  with  his 
and  ascended  the  throne  of  France,  as  Empress. 
Several  years  before  this,  while  yet  but  a  young 
girl,  I  was  riding  one  day  in  a  coach  through 
the  streets  of  Vienna.  The  people  on  all  sides 
were  bowing  and  cheering  me,  for  I  was  a 
favorite.  Suddenly,  the  horses  took  fright  and 
started  to  run  at  a  terrific  speed.  The  carriage 
swayed  from  side  to  side  and  the  spectators  stood 
by  dumbfounded,  unable  to  lend  assistance.  The 
coachman  was  hurled  from  the  box  and  died 
beneath  the  wheels.  Onward  the  maddened 
team  rushed.  I  was  told  that  a  certain  noble- 
man, the  Count  Eugene — was  riding  on  horse 
back  followed  by  his  courtiers,  when  he  came 
upon  the  crowds  of  terrified  citizens.  Erom 
several  he  gained  the  information,  that  the 
Princess  Maria  Louisa  was  being  drawn  to  death 
and  destruction  by  a  pair  of  maddened  horses. 
Waiting  to  hear  no  more  he  dashed  the  rowels  in 
the  horse's  flanks  and  at  break  neck  speed  pur- 
sued the  fleeing  team.  Then  began  a  race  of 


190  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

life  and  death.  Onward  we  rushed  for  quite  a 
distance,  but  the  count  was  fast  gaining  upon 
the  team.  A  few  moments  after  I  heard  the 
clatter  of  hoofs  in  hot  pursuit  and  then  I  fainted 
and  knew  no  more.  I  was  told  afterward,  how 
urging  his  noble  beast  forward  he  had  gained  so 
closely  upon  the  team,  that  but  a  few  strides 
more  and  he  would  reach  the.  reins.  The  foam 
was  flowing  from  his  horse's  flanks,  its  nostrils 
were  dilated,  its  eyes  bulging,  but  he  forced  him 
onward,  until  he  reached  one  of  the  horses' 
bridles  then,  leaning  over  he  seized  it  by  the 
bit  and  just  as  his  horse  sank  to  the  ground, 
bleeding  from  its  nostrils  and  mouth,  he  con- 
quered the  maddened  team  and  thus  saved  my 
life. 

A  short  time  after  that  I  met  my  rescuer  at 
a  court  ball.  Immediately  a  love  affair  sprang 
up  between  us  and  we  were  secretly  betrothed. 
Then  came  Napoleon  and  offered  his  hand.  I 
refused  the  count  and  accepted  Napoleon's  offer. 
Some  time  after  that  the  Count  Eugene  dis- 
appeared and  no  one  knew  where  he  had  gone. 
This,  my  Father,  has  been  a  revelation  to  me, 
although  many  and  many  a  time  has  suspicion 
lurked  in  my  mind,  that  this  strange,  mysterious 


A  Mystery  Revealed.  191 

man  in  the  red  cloak  might  be  my  former 
betrothed.  Go  now,  my  Father,  let  this  be  a 
secret  between  thee  and  me,  let  no  one  know  of 
this.  Here  is  a  goodly  sum  to  reward  you. 
Bowing  low,  he  kissed  Madame's  hand.  Her 
head  was  turned  away,  suppressed  sobs  broke 
the  silence  in  the  room  and  he  withdrew. 


At  last  the  moment  came  and  the  battle  which 
decided  the  fate  of  the  world  was  begun.  The 
night  before  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  was  in  the  midst  of  the  gayety 
and  splendor  of  a  grand  ball,  given  in  his  honor 
by  the  Duchess  of  Richmond.  Lightly  the 
dancers  swayed  in  perfect  rythm  to  the  strains 
of  sweet  music.  IsTewly  made  sweethearts  hung 
on  the  soldier  lover's  arm.  Glances  were  ex- 
changed and  love  words  were  spoken,  little  know- 
ing that  perhaps  they  might  be  their  last. 
Suddenly,  above  the  laughter  and  gayety  of  this 
grand  splendor,  there  burst  upon  their  ears  a 
loud,  deep  sound.  For  a  moment  all  paused  and 
then  suspicions  were  again  cast  to  the  winds. 
But  there  it  was  again,  there  was  no  doubting 
this  time,  "It  is,  it  is  the  cannon's  opening  roar" 


192  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

came  the  whispered  words  from  every  month. 
Officers  and  soldiers  bid  hasty  farewells,  many  of 
them  their  last  and  dashed  to  the  front.  Charge 
after  charge  was  made  and  repulse  after  repulse 
was  given.  Blow  after  blow  was  dealt  and 
received,  as  the  day  wore  itself  away.  All  day 
long  they  battled.  There  were  volleys  of 
musketry,  there  was  booming  of  cannon,  there 
were  riderless  horses  dashing  hither  and  thither, 
only  a  few  drops  of  crimson  on  the  saddle  to 
tell  the  tale.  There  were  groans  on  every  side. 
There  were  men,  rambling  in  unconsciousness, 
seeing  in  their  dreams  their  homes  in  France, 
their  loved  ones  about  them,  their  sweethearts, 
their  wives,  the  prattling  children,  as  the  scenes 
of  quiet  and  peace  arose  in  a  mist  before  their 
eyes  on  this  turbulent  battlefield.  Day  wore 
itself  slowly  away.  Wellington  looked  and 
longed  for  night  and  Bliicher,  while  Kapoleon 
sent  messenger  after  messenger  to  recall  Grouchy 
to  his  aid,  but  in  vain.  That  General,  that 
Emperor,  that  Conqueror,  stood  on  the  field  with 
folded  arms,  a  frown  on  his  face,  viewing  the 
awful  carnage  before  him,  seeing  victory  within 
his  grasp,  if  that  one  man  would  only  come. 
Fate,  it  seemed,  had  played  against  him  this  day. 


A  Mystery  Revealed.  193 

Just  as  dusk,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  day's  work 
of  destruction,  was  slowly  spreading  the  folds  of 
her  inky  mantle  over  "the  dead  and  dying  in  one 
red  burial  blent,"  Napoleon  made  one  more 
effort.  He  drew  that  old  guard,  which  had 
served  him  so  faithfully  and  well  in  days  gone 
by,  into  one  solid  phalanx  and  addressed  them  in 
tones  of  determination  and  pathos.  He  drew 
for  them  pictures,  where  they  could  see  them- 
selves fighting  an  enemy  which  they  had  con- 
quered years  before.  Then  he  gave  the  order 
to  charge.  That  grand  and  noble  line  of  soldiers, 
who  had  followed  him  from  victory  to  victory 
and  had  lost  with  him  at  Moscow,  made  their 
last  charge. 

Up  to  the  muzzles  of  the  guns  the  exhausted 
men  staggered,  some  tottering  and  falling 
beneath  the  shower  of  bullets,  before  they 
reached  the  line.  Again  and  again  they  charged 
and  again  and  again  they  were  repulsed.  Officer 
after  officer  was  shot  down  and  at  last  all  seemed 
lost.  ISTo  one  was  there  to  lead.  The  soldiers 
began  to  fall  back,  awful  holes  were  made  in 
the  line,  when  suddenly  a  figure  sprang  forward, 
seized  the  standard  and  rushed  into  the  thickest 
of  the  fight,  shouting  for  them  to  follow.  It 

13 


194  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

was  the  Captain  Pierre  Moran.  For  a  moment 
everything  seemed  to  vanish  before  them. 
Volley  after  volley  rang  out.  Pierre  staggered 
and  tottered,  but  onward  he  led  his  few  follow- 
ers. Another  volley  and  he  fell,  bleeding  from 
wounds  in  his  breast  and  head,  the  colors  which 
had  seen  so  many  victories  completely  covering 
him  in  their  folds.  Heavy  cannonading  was 
heard.  "It  is  Grouchy"  cried  the  French  with 
joy.  It  was  Bliicher.  The  soldiers  were  as  if 
struck  dumb.  The  lines  swayed  for  an  instant, 
tottered,  then  broke  and  fled.  It  was  all  over 
the  die  had  been  cast,  and  Napoleon  had  lost, 
and  all  because  Grouchy  failed  to  appear. 


In  Morte  Quietus  Est.  195 


CHAPTER  XL 

IN  MORTE  QUIETUS  EST. 

Day  was  slowly  waning  and  the  tired  sun  was 
slowly  sinking  to  rest.  Fleecy  clouds  near  the 
horizon  were  tinged  with  rose.  Chateau  de  Nuit 
stood  black  and  solemn,  as  if  mourning  for  its 
dead  master.  Up  in  the  banquet  room  he  lay 
in  his  coffin  of  black,  draped  with  fiery  silk. 
Its  folds  falling  loosely  to  the  floor  in  solemn 
grandeur.  He  was  dressed  in  the  garb  of  a 
cavalier,  of  red,  all  red  and  the  cloak  of  the 
same  color,  was  carefully  draped  about  him,  with 
its  flaming  elegance  drooping  in  folds  as  he  was 
wont  to  wear  it  in  life.  Even  in  death  his  face 
still  held  his  last  smile  of  contented  victory. 

The  high  rough  walls  looked  upon  the  dead 
with  solemn  silence.  No  more  would  the  echoes 
awaken  to  his  footfalls  and  out  of  respect  for 
their  absent  lord,  it  seemed  they  held  a  deep 
silence,  as  if  they  had  forgotten  all  else  but  the 


196  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

reverence  due  their  silent  master.  At  his  head 
and  feet  stood  two  soldiers,  in  full  armor,  their 
visors  closed,  and  immovable  as  statues. 

Dusk  had  almost  lengthened  its  shadows  into 
the  silent  gloom  of  night  when  the  clatter  of 
horses'  hoofs  sounded  in  the  court-yard  below. 
Two  figures  mounted  the  stairs  and  at  the  door, 
they  uncovered,  before  entering  the  chamber  of 
the  dead.  They  were  Wellington  and  the  King. 
Slowly  they  approached  the  bier  and  stood  in 
silence,  gazing  on  the  waxy  features  of  the  man 
to  whom  they  owed  their  greatness.  Thus  they 
stood  for  some  time,  until  they  were  interrupted 
by  foot-steps.  A  figure  entered  the  room,  her 
hair  loose,  falling  about  her  shoulders  and 
temples  with  lustrous  black  curls.  Her  eye  was 
wild  and  wandering.  Above  her  temple  on  her 
pallid  face  gleamed  a  scar  with  a  brilliant 
redness. 

"Where  is  Mario?  Why  doesn't  he  come? 
Why  doesn't  he  come  ?"  and  her  articulation  was 
broken,  now  with  sobs  and  then  with  a  peal  of 
musical  laughter.  The  King  and  Duke  stood 
aside  with  bowed  heads  to  let  her  pass.  She 
seemed  to  take  no  notice  of  them,  she  sought  only 
one  person  and  him  she  could  not  find. 


In  Morte  Quietus  Est.  197 

"Where  is  he  ?  Do  you  not  know  ?  Where  is 
Mario;  can  no  one  tell?  He  will  come.  He 
loves  me.  I  know  he  will  come.  He  will 
come,"  and  she  broke  into  a  ringing  laugh,  which 
soon  changed  into  sobbing. 

"Do  you  not  know  me  Fleur  de  Lis?"  asked  the 
King.  She  started  as  from  a  dream  and  looked 
up  into  his  face  'with  her  sad  searching  eyes. 
"No  I  No !  You  are  not  Mario.  You  are  not 
Mario,"  and  she  approached  .the  bier.  Suddenly 
she  stopped  and  fixed  her  eyes  upon  the  dead. 
A  shriek  broke  from  her  lips  and  she  threw  her- 
self upon  the  coffin,  sobbing  and  laughing  in 
turn.  "I  knew  he  would  come.  I  knew  he 
would  not  leave  me,"  she  murmured.  "He  is 
not  dead.  He  is  not  dead.  Mario !  Mario !" 
and  the  echoes  only  made  answer  by  repeating 
the  name  she  had  shrieked  aloud.  Then  she 
arose,  her  eye  wildly  wandering,  she  slowly  left 
the  room. 

A  low  chant  swelled  along  the  halls  and  a 
procession  with  solemn,  swinging,  steps  and 
their  heads  cowled,  six  monks  entered  the  room 
and  stood  by  the  coffin.  Then  the  King  ad- 
vanced and  unbuckled  his  sword,  placed  the 
jeweled  hilt  in  the  hands  of  the  dead  man  and 


198  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

withdrew  a  step  or  two.  Then  a  deep  muttering 
drum  rolled  loud  and  long,  then  at  regular 
intervals.  The  monks  took  up  the  dead  and  with 
solemn  and  measured  steps  bore  it  from  the  room, 
followed  by  the  guard  of  honor  and  the  King  and 
Wellington.  A  few  men  followed  closely 
behind,  amongst  these  was  the  old  tottering  gray 
haired  man. 

Slowly  the  procession  pursued  their  walk  to 
the  court-yard  and  crossing  the  stone  pavement, 
they  came  to  the  newly  made  grave.  Slowly, 
amidst  the  rolling  of  the  drum  and  the  sobs  of 
the  followers,  he  was  lowered  into  the  grave. 
The  King  then  approached  and  after  a  short 
prayer,  ending  with  the  words  "  in  morte 
quietus  est "  and  with  a  parring  glance  they 
left.  In  silence  the  King  and  the  Duke  rode 
for  awhile,  then  the  King  spoke :  "  He  was  a 
strange  man." 

"  Very.    Who  was  he  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know."  Then  darkness  and  silence 
closed  around  them. 

In  the  outskirts  of  Paris,  in  the  heart  of  a 
forest,  stood  an  old  nunnery.  One  could  see  the 
good  sisters,  moving  about  in  the  garden  and 


In  Morte  Quietus  Est.  199 

whenever  the  angelus  sounded,  one  would  single 
out  in  particular  a  maiden,  beautiful,  with  down- 
cast glances,  cross  herself  devoutly  and  count 
her  beads.  Could  we  draw  nearer  and  hear  her 
prayer  we  would  be  stirred  by  its  pathos  and 
melancholy.  One  day  the  Mother  Superior 
found  her  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall,  seeking 
comfort  from  the  rays  of  the  mid-summer's  sun 
and  bending  over  her  asked  her,  "sister  why  did 
you  ever  take  our  vows?"  A  tear-drop  hung  on 
her  long  lashes  her  breath  came  fast,  for  that 
question  probably  awoke  dreams  of  past  days. 
For  a  moment  she  remained  in  silence,  a  silence 
so  deep  one  could  hear  the  rippling  of  the  dis- 
tant brook  and  the  call  of  a  bird  for  its  lost 
mate.  Then  she  raised  her  eyes  and  turning 
towards  her  Mother  Superior  she  said,  "I  will 
give  you  an  answer  which  you  might  think 
strange  but  I  will  say  only  these  few  words  then 
ask  me  no  more.  'Love  is  but  the  prelude  to 
marriage  as  the  first  act  to  a  tragedy;  shun  the 
prelude  and  the  play  will  cease.' ' 

This  was  all  she  said.  Hiding  her  face  in  her 
hands  she  sobbed  bitterly  and  again  she  broke 
the  silence  saying,  "I  am  following  the  advice 
of  a  very  dear  friend,  which  was,  'place  love 


200  The  Clash  of  Steel. 

in  the  shackles  of  forgetfulness  and  let  honor 
be  your  only  shrine  of  worship.' '  Without 
a  word  the  Mother  Superior  withdrew,  leav- 
ing her  to  dream  and  forget  the  days  which 
brought  pain  and  joy  and  thus  we  leave  her 
with  silence  drawing  her  curtain  about  her  feel- 
ings and  her  life. 


For  many  years  after  when  strangers  passed 
near  the  Chateau  de  Nuit,  a  figure  in  white 
would  stop  them  and  looking  into  their  faces 
would  turn  away  with  a  look  of  disappointment 
and  murmur:  "No  it  is  not  Mario,  but  he  will 
come,  he  will  come."  Then  an  old  gray  haired 
man,  leaning  on  a  cane  would  tell  them  "she 
will  not  harm  you;  she  is  only  mad."  At  night 
a  song  would  be  heard  from  the  dark  walls  of 
Chateau  de  Nuit,  the  air  wild  and  sad,  then  the 
peasants  would  shake  their  heads  and  say,  "it  is 
the  voice  of  night  in  song." 


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